Psychonautics
by Ironypus
Summary: An alternate universe where, gifted with Escalation instead of Administrator Taylor Hebert finds out there can be too much of a good thing. When the only way to go is up, what else can you do?
1. Doubling up 1-1

When I first got my powers I promised myself I would never use them on someone who didn't deserve it. And I mean really deserve it. Not even the people who had bullied me for nearly two years deserved _that_.

But it was so hard, I was sure the powers had done something to me, made me want to fight and keep fighting until there was nothing left. And the more the situation escalated the stronger the desire, and my powers, were.

So when the group of them had cornered me in the hallway to spew insult after insult framed in such a way that they weren't ever talking directly to me, I tried to distract myself with designing schematics for an acid thrower made out of Emma's wristwatch and smartphone battery. I would never do that, of course, even though she really needed to shut her stupid bitch face up and stop harassing me so I wouldn't get upset and use the other part of my power.

So when the hateful ice in my veins surged after another ridiculous jab about how much of a fat, ugly whore I was and the only reason I was so skinny was because my crackhead pimp kept giving me extra meth I finally wrenched my eyes off the ground and saw something surprising.

"None of them like you, Sophia," I said without meaning to. I retuned my power to see how everyone else thought of me, just to make sure. "They even like you less than they like me"

Which wasn't saying much.

"Fucking what?" Sophia sneered, her sharp dark eyes narrowing.

"Apart from Emma, no one really likes you. You'd have to be even more retarded than you think I am to not see it"

I turned to the group of hangers on recruited to torment me, my gaze flicking between their eyes.

"They all hate you because you're a rude bitch. And you hate them because they're a bunch of idiots who can't think for themselves"

They turned their collective denial of reality into anger, focusing it on me. The plan proceeded smoothly, my power reaching greater heights as the conflict escalated. Relationships between people and things became clearer, more detailed. My thoughts reached a crystal clarity, each one precise in its function, the sweet rush of getting smarter. Schematics for outrageous, wonderful pieces of tinkertech got more complex. I could feel there were other powers lurking in my head, giving me other benefits that I would soon discover and exploit.

"You really think you can play this game?" Emma said imperiously. "You're going to end up crying like a little bitch again, just like always. Does anybody want to all about how pathetic she is?"

I turned to the girl who had once been my best friend, the one person I would never ever hurt or betray.

"It doesn't matter what you _say_ , Emma. What matters is what _they_ think. And they already know you'd stab them in the back the first chance you get"

I tuned my relationship diviner between her and Sophia. What I gleaned was confusing. As far as I could tell Emma hero worshipped her for being cool and dark and mysterious because of something huge. She thought they were friends, and _something else_? A connection I didn't know how to parse.

"In fact," I continued, turning to face Sophia. "The only two people here who _are_ friends are you and Sophia, and I have absolutely no idea why that is. Though I'm sure you have your… _reasons_ "

I thrust my chin out and waggled my tongue to make sure they knew exactly what I was implying.

"You think you're being funny?" Sophia scoffed. "You stupid c-"

"Yeah," I cut her off. "And what the fuck're you gonna do about it?"

I focused all my power between us, processing how she felt, her expression, her body language and the thousand other little things that made leaning out of the way as she tried to shove me trivial. Sophia stumbled and I levelled at her a gaze so full of smugness even a Changer with a power specifically related to being a smug asshole would be hard pressed to match it.

There was a huge burst of humiliation and rage right before she slapped me so hard in the face I crashed into the wall behind me and slid down. Instead of pain there was only cold, my power and I welcomed it.

"Stay down, you pitiful fuck," she spat.

I pushed myself to my feet on limbs of burning ice, "oh no, we're going to go see the Principal"

Shock flittered across her face, a micro expression I wouldn't have seen had my power not been running so high.

"No we aren't," she said. "You're going to keep your mouth shut like always, because this is what you de-"

I leaned in as close as I could, putting my height to good use. I looked down my nose at her, straightening my glasses. "You chicken?" I asked.

For some reason being called a coward affected her more than the threat of the Principal. Interesting. Her jaw clenched, raw anger flashing in her eyes. She opened her mouth to reply and I pushed past one of her cronies before she could speak.

"Come on then," I jeered as I walked down the corridor. "Or are you going to puss out?"

She took the bait. The plan was going even better than I expected, had I really been such a meek little wallflower than this display of confidence put them off so much? My power roared as I strode quickly, Sophia in tow, towards the office of Principal Blackwell. Escalation to the highest level of authority I could swiftly access.

* * *

My eyes swept around the room, designs for a perfect lie detector/taser cobbled out of her computer fought from prominence in my thoughts, but I fought them down and concentrated on the situation at hand.

It was decidedly not going my way at all.

"I can't take action without evidence," Principal Blackwell said tiredly, doing her best impression of someone who was good at their job. "You say she hit you, she says you tripped"

She wasn't doing very well.

I glared, trying to piece together the clues into something I could use.

"This makes no sense," I ground out. "You don't like her, you know she did it. So why are you covering for her?"

"I'm not covering for anyone, Taylor," Blackwell said as Sophia sat splayed in her chair, smug as can be.

"No," I said. "You definitely are. I can see it in your eyes. You know, before today I always thought it might be because you were having an affair with Emma's dad"

I didn't, and Blackwell didn't like Alan Barnes at all either. But it pissed her off, and that's what I needed.

"And then I thought you might have been having an affair with Sophia, but that doesn't make sense since you really don't like her"

"Be careful you make such accusations," Blackwell spluttered.

"Oh, I haven't done that yet," I muttered. "And it's not blackmail either…"

Did one of them know someone higher up? My power grasped at the thought. I checked both of them, but only Blackwell knew the superintendent. Who was higher than that? They Mayor. I checked them, and surprisingly Sophia knew him well enough to have a strong opinion, but Blackwell didn't.

I pretended to read their faces. "This really makes no sense. What possible reason could you have for covering for her bullying of me? Is she in a gang or something? Are you being threatened?"

I trailed off as I checked both of their relationships towards the local gangs, and Sophia especially utterly and without reservation despised them. Hated them with the sort of passion that came with knowing someone personally.

"No…" I said reverently as my power ratcheted up another step, clinging to the hope I could take this higher up the chain. To escalate this to the point where win or lose carried huge consequences.

I checked their relationships to the PRT and the Protectorate.

"I need to make a call," I said quickly, turning pleading eyes towards Blackwell.

"A call?" said Blackwell in equal parts confusion and outrage. "I rather think we need to focus on your tendency to accuse people so outrageously"

"If I do not make this call I think I may be in danger"

And that sealed it. Blackwell reluctantly turned her desk phone towards me.

"One call," she said. "Then we will get back to sorting this whole mess out"

I gulped, my heart pounding in my chest, spreading the flood of ice that got colder and colder. I turned to Sophia.

"What's the Protectorate's number?" I asked.

Sophia flinched and Blackwell jumped about a foot, radiating alarm and panic and confusion.

I looked at Blackwell who was doing her best impression of a drowned corpse, then to Sophia who was staring me down with frightening ferocity.

Once upon a time I would be horrified beyond belief that the perpetrator of my bullying campaign was a Hero. But now it was the best moment of my life.

"Nah," I said, not knowing if my power dredged it up from my memory or read it off her. "Don't tell me, I remember"

I dialled the number and looked up at Sophia. It was truly surprising she hadn't attacked me yet, but considering her only options here were to be quiet or incriminate herself further by trying to violently silence me maybe it wasn't so surprising. It wasn't like she was insane.

The phone rang twice, I could barely hear it over my own heartbeat. I held my breath for what felt like a life age, watching Blackwell and Sophia caught in the indecision of total panic.

"Brockton Bay Protectorate headquarters," said a cheery woman on the other end of the line. "How my I help you?"

"I-" my voice caught in my throat, turning into a squeak. I took a deep breath and focused on the cold clarity of my power. "I would like to report some disturbing actions of a Ward to Armsmaster"

"Where are you calling from?" the woman asked, all the cheer replaced by professionalism.

"Winslow High," I said. "I know I can't name names, but if SH is SS then Armsmaster really needs to hear this"

Muffled swearing issued through the receiver. Easy listening music played for the length of time it probably took the receptionist to get the message through.

The phone beeped and a deep voice spoke.

"This is Armsmaster," the leader of the Brockton Bay Protectorate spoke, he managed to sound polite, frustrated and furious all at once. "I've been told you have some information on a ward, potentially including their civilian identity"

The civilian identity of a cape, a hero with or without powers, was a closely guarded secret. Only one team in all of America boldly dropped their masks as a part of their vision of heroism.

"Yes," I said. "Is, uh, this line secure?"

"It should be," he responded.

"Sophia Hess has been bullying me, I have evidence going back months and the school is covering it up and I only accidentally found out just now on accident and you should see their _faces_ please come and help me," I blurted out as quickly as I possibly could.

Armsmaster made a hissing sound on the other end of the phone. It really was lucky I was right, or this could have ended really poorly.

"Put Sophia on," he asked mildly, covering up his slip in composure.

I passed the phone to Sophia who, judging by her expression, was contemplating jumping out the window.

"Yeah?" Sophia said in a voice of false bravado, gingerly holding the phone to her ear.

"No, she's a liar. She's had it out for me for ages"

"Lucky guess"

"She picked a fight and went to the principal"

Blackwell took this chance to sink into her chair and put her face in her hands.

"How could she have evidence of something that didn't happen?"

"So ask her yourself"

She passed the phone back to me.

"This is a risky situation," Armsmaster said. "Accusing a ward of bullying is a serious allegation, are you completely sure of this?"

"I would bet my life on it," I said.

"Are you able to provide this proof of yours immediately?" He asked.

"You'd have to drive me home," I said before realising I shouldn't have given away the location to someone who could just go in and sweep this whole thing under the rug. This was the same man who had let _Sophia_ be a hero.

Armsmaster hmm'ed. "In ten minutes there will be a dark blue van outside the front of Winslow, tell the driver you have to donate blood. They will then show you their PRT badge. Instruct them to your house, retrieve the evidence then they will drive you to the PRT building and we can sort this whole mess out, ok?"

"Ok," I said, completely ignoring other more sensible options than getting in a van with a stranger and delivering my only copy of the bullying log to people who were probably just going to make empty promises and pretend like the problem was dealt with once I had left.

But I was in too far to back out now. I had to keep my dad as a trump card.

"Can you put me on to Principal Blackwell? I'll inform her about the situation" Armsmaster asked, trying to sound kind in an obvious ploy to gain my trust.

I passed her the phone, waited for her to write me a note saying I could leave, picked up my bag and walked over to the door.

I cast one last look at the pair of them. Blackwell trying to stonewall Armsmaster with school protocol, Sophia rapidly texting someone.

I almost welcomed them trying to make this harder, to make it drag on, but not even the temptation of higher power could outweigh the thought of dealing with this shit as soon as possible.

I closed the door behind me and took a deep breath. I had maybe half an hour until my power started to wind itself back down again and if I was right about whoever was in charge of all of this they would want to see me as soon as possible. While I was still, to them at least, emotionally vulnerable.

I set off down the corridor, trying to think of a plan. My power wasn't very helpful on that front, seeming to be geared towards dealing with the immediate problem at hand and damn the consequences.

I had a couple of cards to play, namely threatening to expose Shadow Stalker's bullying of me to the media. Exposing that would surely cost a lot of people their jobs when it came out. I didn't know exactly what I'd do if they weren't willing to play ball, but I'd figure it out. Bringing up them dragging a minor out of school without parental consent would help.

I passed a chattering classroom and hastened my step, I had approximately nine minutes until the van arrived and none of them to waste.

I slipped out the front door and strode over to one of the old wooden benches fixed to the brick of the building. I sat down and tore open my bag, rummaging around for one of my notebooks and a pen. I just couldn't let the chance to sketch out some designs, when I didn't know when I would next have access to this level of power, pass by.

The devices I could conceive of at base level weren't very amazing. Even someone like Squealer the Merchants Tinker could match them, and she was as bottom of the barrel as it got.

Following that train of thought I started sketching out the framework of a polyphase engine, making little annotations to the side. Tinkertech designs, I imagined, tended to not be very coherent to people who weren't tinkers and didn't have the schematics bursting into their head as inspiration struck.

Judging from my research, done on a laptop I cobbled together with my newfound understanding of all things electronic and mechanical, I was what was called a Universal Tinker. This meant I could build pretty much anything if I had the materials, unlike most other tinkers who were stuck to one speciality like Squealer and vehicles. It sounded better than it was, I had to get into fights to get my power up to build anything really good and there were other weird restrictions I couldn't figure out. For instance, I could build a countdown timer but not a clock.

Sure, I could build a timer that counted up exactly like a clock and reset at midnight, but I couldn't build an actual clock.

I glanced up from where I was adding all terrain legs to the chassis of what was turning into a cat themed minibus, not my best design, and scanned the road. No sign of the van, and the guy in charge of making sure students didn't just walk out the front gate apparently didn't care that I wasn't in class.

I gave up the cat bus as a bad job and flipped the page, at the very least it might give me an idea for something later on. I tapped the pen agitatedly against the paper for a moment, mind whirling with ideas. All I needed was for one to leap out at me and crystallise into a solid design…

My pen flew across paper as I envisioned an upgraded version of my sonic pistol.

One of my first attempts at tinkering had produced the guts of a pistol that would, in theory, induce nausea and vertigo. The range wasn't very good but it was completely non-lethal, something my tech was good at.

It would be interesting to see if I could either make it or upgrade my old one when my power had receded. Getting the parts was going to be a complete pain, I had no idea where I could get my hands on that sort of graphene or lithium. And then I'd need the tools to make the parts if I wanted something more complex than an earphone speaker wired to a circuit board.

I scribbled out the bare bones design of a truck mounted vibro-pulse emitter cannon my upgraded sonic pistol was developing into. Too big, too vicious.

That had to be ten minutes by now, I thought, designing and tinkering were amazing at eating up time unnoticed. Perhaps this would be a better strategy, give up some time designing so that when the van finally pulled up the driver wouldn't see me scribbling feverishly. They might have even seen Armsmaster or Kid Win, the only tinker in Brockton Bay's Wards, doing something similar and connect the dots. My heart pounded blood like rivers of ice, I needed to be more paranoid.

I stuffed the book and pen into my bag, got up and approached the man at the gate. He looked up from his phone with dispassionate eyes and tilted his head to the side, not sparing the effort to ask a question.

"I have permission from Mrs. Blackwell to leave," I pulled the note out of my pocket and handed it over.

The man sighed as he read it, expression unchanging, and nodded.

"Ok," he said, stepping aside to let me pass. "Have fun"

I walked out through the gate, glancing back to see the guard once again glued to his phone, and headed off along in the direction I thought the van would probably come from. I walked about halfway along the tall fence before leaning against the bars, fingers tapping an agitated pattern on my leg.

It wasn't long before a dark blue van came round the corner of the four way intersection and crawled along the street. The driver must have seen me because the van parked as close to where I was standing as it could. I took a second to ready myself, I could feel the ice in my veins starting to thaw. In another ten or fifteen minutes it would start to go…

Maybe I could get into a shouting match with the PRT driver.

I sprang from where I was leaning against the fence and headed around to the driver's side of the van. At the wheel was a young woman looking at me with kind brown eyes as she wound the window down, no doubt chosen to put me at ease and leave me more pliable to their manipulations.

"I have to give blood," I said as casually as I could. This was where I would need to be extra careful of what I said, I had to be extra careful not to let anything slip that might imply I was a parahuman. This wasn't a heat of the moment thing like with Sophia, the Parahuman Response Team were specifically trained for that sort of thing.

I of course checked her with my power, confirming who she was before she could say anything.

"Ms. Hebert?" she asked, pulling her badge of office out of her pocket and opening it.

Sargent Jennifer James, Brockton Bay PRT.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, could I check a person relationship to _themselves?_ I tuned my power between Jennifer James and Jennifer James and the feedback I got was vague. Blurry, like looking through an old tarnished mirror. I had the feeling I would be able to get more out of it if my power was running high enough.

I nodded, "that's me"

Jennifer smiled winningly, "well, if you'll just hop in the other side there we can go get what you need"

I nodded again and walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger side door. I slid into the seat and buckled my seatbelt. The van smelt of dust and oversweet pine, no doubt coming from the air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror.

The van purred to life and Jennifer pulled out into the street.

"Can you tell me your home address?" she asked.

I gave it to her, hoping to god there wasn't a microphone somewhere in here transmitting everything I said to the crack Evidence Destroying Team.

The words had barely left my mouth when a metallic clang sounded from right behind my ear. I jerked forward, my seatbelt catching. I twisted violently, turning to see a helmet and visor peering through a sliding panel from inside the back of the van.

"I'm sorry if I startled you, Ms. Hebert," said the beard poking out from under the visor in a deep voice. "This isn't the van I normally use"

"Armsmaster," I breathed as the thawing in my blood ceased. "Holy fucking shit"

"Indeed," he replied.

There was an awkward pause.

"How did you want to handle the meeting with Director Piggot?" Armsmaster asked.

"…Quickly?" I replied. This was not going how I thought it would at all.

"I meant," he said, "in regards to contacting your parent or guardian"

Of course. It was foolish of me to not expect them to have situations like this down to a science, that they wouldn't just hustle me into the office. Well, it wasn't like I hadn't prepared for this, to make every sacrifice to gain victory. To throw away parts of myself I would never get back if it just meant I would win.

"Oh, um… I'd prefer if I not tell my dad. He doesn't really know about me being bullied" I said meekly.

I tuned my checker between him and me. _Annoyed at me for having dragged him away from work, wondering if I was a liar, thought I was kind of pathetic…_

That wouldn't do.

"I never said anything because I could handle it myself," I added. "All I needed was for them to slip up, like today"

"When I spoke to her on the phone, Sophia said you goaded her into a fight. Is this true?"

"Turns out," I said, "that Sophia likes to talk a whole bunch of shit when she's backed up with all her friends. Today was the first time I actually talked back. She slapped me, by the way, right there"

I pointed to my face.

"And that's not even the best bit, you can check the hospital or police reports or whatever for this it only happened like three weeks ago, she shoved me into a locker full of literal shit and locked me in. School can't do anything apparently, so the first chance she gets she starts heaping shit on me again. So you fucking tell me, Armsmaster, did I goad her?"

I shouted that last bit.

 _Confused as to why I blew up, doesn't believe me, doesn't not believe me_

At least he didn't think I was pathetic anymore.

"And you definitely have proof of this?" he asked cautiously.

I nodded.

"Months and months of writing down all the crap they've pulled"

"It's a good start," said Armsmaster, still in that same careful tone. "But it's not actually proof"

How the hell was I supposed to do this if he kept trying to defuse?

"Yeah, me writing all that down for months and continuously getting nothing out of it is proof of nothing, right?" I asked sarcastically.

 _Thinks I'm an obstinate little shit_

"Ms. Hebert," Armsmaster said dully, like he had mentally checked out of the conversation. "It's a good start but it's not _proof_ "

Shit.

"So that's it?" I asked incredulously. "You're going to pull the exact same shit as school and sweep it under the rug because I have no 'proof'?"

"No, Ms. Hebert," said Armsmaster. "At the very least this warrants an investigation"

"Which you will assuredly not fudge, am I right?"

Armsmaster didn't reply. I didn't need powers to tell he wanted to be anywhere but here, dealing with a snotty teenager.

* * *

The rest of the drive was entirely uneventful. We arrived at my house, I ran inside and retrieved the logbook, locked the house and got back in the van then sat in moody silence until we got to the PRT building.

When we got out of the van I took a moment to admire Armsmasters midnight blue power armour. I hoped that someday I could produce such a fine piece of tinkertech. No other tinker could build power armour that sleek, Armsmaster wasn't _the_ miniaturisation tinker for nothing.

The inside of the PRT building was pretty average, like a more modern looking police station. Kevlar and chainmail clad PRT officers walked alongside their less armoured co-workers as they went about their duties.

With Armsmaster we breezed through the security protocol, and after a short walk and an absurdly smooth elevator ride we stood in front of a door labelled 'Director E. Piggot'.

"If you could please behave better than in the van," said Armsmaster as he knocked on the door, "it would be much appreciated"

My power had gotten a nice little boost from that shitfit, so I wasn't making any promises. And I was sure I'd need every drop I could wring out of it.

"Enter"

Armsmaster twisted the doorhandle and pushed the door open, revealing the final frontier. My power surged in anticipation.

My final frontier looked disappointingly like an overworked middle aged bureaucrat who had put on some weight over the years and forgotten that bowl cuts went out of style centuries ago.

 _Hopes I'm wrong._

 _Thinks Sophia is a liability._

I smiled as she stood and walked around her desk to shake my hand, even the director didn't like Sophia.

But what did that imply? If the people in charge didn't like her, how could she keep getting away with it?

"I'm told you have some disturbing news, Ms. Hebert," said Director Piggot, ushering me into the chair sitting in front of her desk.

I rallied my thoughts.

"Yes, Shadow Stalker has been bullying me"

"In your civilian guises?"

I nodded, "Shadow Stalker, who is Sophia Hess, has been bullying me. For like, nearly two years. How did she keep getting away with it?" I started raising my voice. "Aren't you guy's hero's? Shouldn't you be stopping this from happening?"

Director Piggot looked at me gravely, "Perhaps you should tell us everything from the beginning"

So I did. Everything from her turning my former best friend against me to her picking her campaign back up as soon as it looked like the school would keep covering for her and our encounter in the principal's office.

"So what do you have to say for yourself?" I hissed as I slammed the logbook onto her desk and slid it over to her.

The director's lips were thin as she opened the book and read the first few entries before skimming the rest.

 _Thinks I'm not lying, pities me, thinks I'm a liability, angry at my rudeness_

Huh.

"I think, Ms. Hebert," she said as she placed the book back onto the desk. "That you should control yourself"

"Oh no no no, director," I said as my blood reached something approaching sub zero. "I think you need to control your Wards"

I leaned over and picked my logbook back up, "or else"

My power jumped. I could see it now, so much clearer than before. The second she labelled me as a threat. The leap was almost overwhelming, the clarity of the laser focus of my power, so much higher than it had ever been. I tuned my power between her and every relevant party, searching for the most damaging threat.

"Ms. Hebert," Director Piggot bristled. "Please sit back down. We both agree this is a terrible, unfair situation. I promise I will handle this, regardless of your attitude"

I smiled thinly, my wide lips hiding clenched teeth.

"We both know that if this ever gets out, you're finished. The headline ' _Brockton Bay Ward Terrorises Fellow Student; PRT Does Nothing'_ doesn't paint a very nice picture to the Chief Director or the Youth Guard, does it? The media would tear you apart. You should pay attention to my attitude, because I'm at the end of my fucking tether," I dropped the logbook softly onto her desk. "And unluckily for the both of us you're the only one who would do something to right this injustice, so I'm going to trust you'll do the right thing and carry out a thorough investigation. Don't let me down"

I looked down my nose at Piggot who I knew would see this through to the end even if she loathed me. Piggot glared back and ground out words learned by rote, dismissing me from her office.

I folded my arms as my fingers started twitching. This was about as much power as I would get from here, I really wanted to get home and start tinkering.

* * *

 **So there's that whole mess out of the way early on.**

 **Lung still exists, just not in Brockton Bay, thus no ABB. He's currently overseas trying to rebuild Japan, the landmass not the nation.**


	2. Doubling up 1-2

I was insane, it was the only explanation. Why else would I antagonise Director Piggot like that after I saw she was completely on board with helping me? After that little display I knew I couldn't ever let them know my real identity after I decided what my cape one was to be.

It was strange looking back at my memories after I'd come off my power high and had a good night's sleep, what had my expression been like at the end?

At least I had gotten some good tech ideas out of it, I hadn't even known I could make antigrav accelerators.

The school bus rumbled to a stop outside school, and as with every morning since I had gotten my power the sound the breaks made _begged_ for me to go in and fix them. And add a turbocharger to the engine. Then remove the engine entirely and replace it with one remade stronger and faster in my image.

As usual I folded in on myself as I entered the gate, eyes down and hands in my pockets. I almost wished the apprehension of merely attending school would trigger my power and bring with it the freezing certainty I could beat anything, but it probably wasn't worth it.

Yesterday had been a special case with circumstances unable to be replicated.

I shuffled through the front door with the crowd and along the hallways towards my first class, I never bothered to use my locker after the incident. Carrying all of my books everywhere was a pain, but it was worth it.

My bus was a late one and it was kind of relaxing, leaning up against the wall with no one around to bother me even if it was a short lived comfort.

Almost on time with the bell Mr. Quinlan, the math teacher, strode down the hall folders tucked under one arm and a briefcase dangling from the other. I looked up and briefly met his eyes.

"Good morning," he nodded stiffly as he shifted his briefcase around so he could fit the key into the door. "You're excused from class this morning, Principal Blackwell would like to see you in her office"

He looked at me like he thought I'd done something wrong but I didn't say anything as I left, it wouldn't matter if I did.

Another part of my power I'd found was I could build a charge, and if my power was triggered while holding it, it would get stronger faster than if I was caught by surprise. I started building a charge as I walked, if I needed it it would be there. If not, no harm done.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled with apprehension, how would Blackwell strike? What options did she have? I didn't really see what she could do at the moment beyond make threats, I hadn't broken any school rules yesterday. Unless something had happened while I was gone, some event fabricated by Emma?

Dark thoughts swirled impotently around in my head, I didn't have enough information. I needed a way to get more. Vague plans of a hyper sensitive microphone that separated everything it heard into separate outputs vied for prominence, but I let them go. They wouldn't be of any use at the moment.

I stood for a moment, stopping outside Blackwell's office. I sighed, best to get it over with.

I knocked four times and waited. At Blackwell's muffed, "come in," I twisted the doorknob and stepped inside.

Principal Blackwell sat behind her desk wearing her usual funeral black suit, she looked tired. Not as haggard as Director Piggot had been, but visibly weary all the same. She motioned for me to take a seat.

I glowered as I slumped into the chair, dropping my bag heavily onto the carpet.

"What is this school?" she asked, staring at her steepled hands.

When I didn't answer she continued.

"It's vulnerable, Taylor. And it is under siege. Every week we lose more students to the Empire, or the Merchants or one of the half dozen other gangs who're trying to take their places. Some of them have even joined a cult. And they bring the violence happening outside into the classroom. We've had a reprieve of that lately, can you guess why?"

It didn't take a genius to see she was trying to guilt trip me, and that was all it took. The dam broke and ice flooded my heart, pumping through my veins until my whole body felt cold.

 _Thinks I need to grow up, guilt towards me hidden by repetition, I'm not the first one to get this speech._

I didn't need my power to tell me that.

"You're throwing me to the wolves because the PRT, or the Protectorate or whoever were upping our security," I said coolly. "And you think you're completely justified in letting shit like the locker happen, letting other shit like that happen to other kids because it's not gang related"

Blackwell shook her head pityingly. "You just don't have the frame of reference to understand, it's not just about this school. Kids who get recruited here end up committing crimes out there, then they bring that mindset back to school in the form of a knife or drugs which they use to get another one of our students to go out there and start the cycle over again. Surely you understand how important it is to keep as many students safe as possible"

I crossed my arms, she'd heard all this before so often she had her little speech all ready to go. I needed to do something different, but what? This was a stock standard deontology vs. utilitarianism argument, the sort that had been going on for millennia.

"Your sacrificial lambs aren't worth it, you failed here not because of the needs of the many but because you didn't try," I spat. "You gave up before you even started and let a Ward get away with bullying. This whole thing is your own personal failure"

"There's more there at play than you know," Blackwell replied quickly. "Think of it as doing the wrong things for the right reasons"

Oh fuck that. I tuned my power between Blackwell and Sophia, determined to rip the truth out if I had to. I threw myself into the torrent of their relationship.

"So," I said slowly. "You feel obliged to protect her because of her troubled past or whatever? Or did you think it was just a phase she would grow out of?"

Blackwell's jaw tensed, "if only you knew how bad things really are"

"Do you really think it would have been worth it, letting someone like _that_ join the Protectorate?"

I already knew the answer, Blackwell felt that Sophia was good at her job and the lives she had protected and would go on to protect were worth more than mine.

She didn't say anything.

"This still all happened because you weren't good enough, you could have done both if you tried and no amount of lying to me is gonna let you convince yourself," I ventured, but it wasn't going to work. Even my power had stopping growing a little while back, despite my initial reaction this wasn't a proper conflict.

"Then I shall endeavour to try harder, a few weeks ago I promised the staff would be keeping a closer eye on you. Clearly we have failed, I'll impress upon them the importance of their duty"

"This is such bullshit," I said. "You know that if I go public with this your career's finished, right? I'm not going to make it this easy for you. This is a threat; you either shape up or I'll ship you out"

"Ok," said Blackwell, unsteepling her hands and laying them flat on the desk.

Annoying. But whatever, at least Blackwell had capitulated and so long as she kept her promise this time and did her fucking job I'd count this as a win.

I stood up and hefted my bag back onto my back, maybe Blackwell would get fired anyway once the PRT finished their investigation. I stole a glance at her clock, there was still some first period math left. It might prove useful to see how my power worked when I was learning.

* * *

I pushed my laptop forwards and shifted on my bed so I was lying down and stretched, the ache forming in my lower back abating. While ostensibly tinkertech the laptop didn't have many special properties, though I could definitely make it several times better than any commercially available computer I just didn't see the point. It worked as well as a high end laptop and that was good enough for now, though eventually I'd want to put it in a case that looked halfway respectable.

I felt a little guilty for stealing someone's unprotected wifi, but the thrill of finally having internet at home somewhat outweighed it.

I tabbed off of PHO, Parahumans Online was the biggest parahuman wiki and forum on the web, and onto Youtube where I had followed a link from a Korean rogue cape who made cute cat videos using their power.

The cats coordinated gambolling lulled me into a state of utter relaxation, unfortunately broken by the sound of the front door banging shut. I sighed, paused the video and put my laptop to sleep. I stowed it away under my bed, where it would later be retrieved once I was sure dad wouldn't unexpectedly come up to my room.

I hadn't told dad about the bullying, or that it had gotten so bad I ended up getting powers, which meant I couldn't let him see my computer. Or my mostly finished sonic pistol. Or my design sketches.

I stood up and stretched until my back cracked then headed downstairs.

My father was a tall, gangly man whose glasses made his eyes look too big for his head. All traits I inherited, except for that last past. He was the spokesperson for the failing Dockworkers Union and had never quite been the same since mom died.

He was also the only person I was _terrified_ of using my powers on.

I didn't know if I could take it if what I found wasn't what I thought.

"Hey dad," I called as I rounded the corner to the kitchen and saw him bending into the refrigerator.

"Hey," he said as he pulled the milk out, popped the spout and drank straight from the carton like an animal. "School fun?"

I cringed internally, he asked that question a lot. It made sense, he had to have some idea of what was going on after I got stuffed into a locked smeared with crap, he wasn't blind.

"I had a talk with the principal today, she said they're cracking down on bullying again"

I couldn't well say I was threatening her and the PRT into actually being good at their jobs for once.

"They'd better effin' be," dad slotted the milk back into the side of the fridge. "After letting it get so bad"

"Other stuff too, apparently people are joining some cult or something"

"Yeah I heard about that," we trundled into the lounge room. "I had a guy at the docks saying he joined The Convent? I think that was it. That was a few weeks back though, haven't seen him since. They made him wear an earring to show off that he'd joined and everything"

"So I just avoid everyone wearing an earring?"

Dad scoffed and slumped onto the lounge, "and if a strange man in a trench coat offers to sell you some earring, just say no. It's your choice"

"What if he's giving it out for free?"

"Remember D.A.R.E, Don't Earring Retrieve… Ever," dad grimaced.

That _was_ pretty weak.

"So what's for dinner?" I asked.

"Spaghetti," he pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. "And after dinner you have to help clean some things out of the house, the council is doing one of those clean up things"

"Ok," I said casually, trying not to betray my excitement. While I had already cleaned the house of any loose items I could take apart and use for parts, we hadn't had much, I could go out and scavenge things without attracting the attention of the gangs.

Tinkers were in high demand, by both the Protectorate and the gangs, as tinkertech could act as a force multiplier and grant victory where before it had seemed impossible. As such the gangs posted lookouts around any junkyards or rubbish tips in their territory, waiting to kidnap or coerce any unsuspecting tinkers.

I had been debating trying my luck and going scavenging, but this provided the perfect opportunity to prowl safe zones and finally get enough that I could start making some real fuckin' tech.

I turned around and went back up to my room, I had plans to make and cat videos to watch.

* * *

 **To alleviate any confusion over Taylor's power, it's a re-vamp of Lung's shard with different powers but a similar end result. The powers are as follows:**

 **Empathic sense which can be tuned between two people, or a person and an object. As the power rises the sense provides clearer information on the relationship being viewed. Line of sight of at least one person restricted.**

 **Increased clarity of thought. As the power rises so does the speed the user thinks, culminating in perfect memory at sufficient levels. The perfect memories formed may only be accessed at that level, fading from mind like normal memories until sufficient power is reached and they are retrieved.**

 **Intuitive Aptitude. At base rates this function is hard to detect, as the user will just seem like a quick study. As the power rises the rate at which skills may be learned increases until sufficient power is reached that desired skills are learned automatically. These automatically learned skills are only accessible at that sufficient power level, fading from mind like normal memories otherwise.**

 **Memory Manipulation. The size and complexity of the memory space to be modified increases as power levels rise, as does the difficulty of the recipient in rejecting the modified memory. Touch based, must remain in contact with recipient's head.**

 **Tinker power to the theme of escalation, restricted to devices that can be used to start or make a conflict worse. Some things were left out for the sake of efficiency, a countdown timer being deemed more threatening than a clock. As the power rises so too does the complexity and scale of the tinkertech.**

 **Unlike with Lung the power lingers for roughly half an hour instead of winding down straight away, and the deadline can be extended via active tinkering.**

 **The powers are all quite weak initially and harder to reach the higher levels than with Lung, though an internal charge can be built to increase the rate at which the power rises once in a conflict, as the user is still as squishy as anyone else but should eventually allow the user to wreak havoc at the level of a rampaging dragon.**


	3. Doubling up 1-3

I yanked the old car battery out of the pile of trash, a poorly made end table tumbling over. It hit the ground soundlessly and I slunk back to my battered old shopping trolley to deposit my find. I grabbed the handle and dragged my trolley back into the darkness.

Where once the wheels would have screeched and clacked, the junk inside rattling loudly, all was quiet. Everything in a meter radius around me was utterly quiet, my Sonic Dampener stilling the air and preventing vibrations from traveling through it. It was a thing of pure genius, human hearing was by far better at detecting others than sight, and now with me making absolutely no noise someone had to be looking pretty much directly at me to know I was there.

And even then my dark clothes in the night made that harder still.

I withdrew my sonic pistol from my pocket, I was about to go through the edge of Empire territory so I wanted my weapon where I could use it at a moment's notice. I had ended up buying a Count Dooku toy lightsabre and fitting the parts for my pistol inside the handle, then reworked the LED and sound board into being able to glow and hum threateningly.

It was another thing of genius, capable of two modes. Stun and BN, good for up to fifteen meters in a wide arc beam, guaranteed to shit up anyone's day.

I skirted around the flickering yellow pool cast by a streetlight and ducked into an alley, taking a moment to catch my breath. I was still on the outer rim on Empire territory, and no one was likely to be out this late just wandering around anyway, so I should be safe.

Empire Eighty-Eight, the white supremacist gang run by Kaiser, controlled just shy of two fifths of the gang owned territory in the city making them by far the strongest presence. It had earned Brockton Bay the unfortunate title of Nazi City. Needless to say they were an ever present thorn in everyone's side, a common topic in the papers was the incompetence of the local Protectorate branch in dealing with them; never mind the Empire had over a dozen capes to the Protectorates seven.

The next most powerful gang were the bizarrely persistent Merchants who were situated in the poorer parts of the city, controlling roughly a quarter of the territory. It was to everyone's continual confusion that Skidmark, The Merchants leader, was still alive given his reckless attitude and constant substance abuse but he had managed to keep peddling cheap drugs and prostitutes for years.

The remaining third of the gang territory was divvied up in a constantly shifting patchwork of minor gangs trying to make it big and independent villain groups like Uber and Leet, Coil and his mercenaries, Clockwork and Gypsy Danger who were all trying to steal pieces of the pie while nobody was looking.

I yawned, a small eddy of misted breath curling out of existence. It had to be nearly three in the morning, time to go home and stash my loot in the basement. It had only just been cleaned out so dad would have no reason to go down there.

I'd have to think about moving it all to a bigger location, one where I could set up a proper workshop. I couldn't just stay at the level I was at now, wiring speakers together in my bedroom, I needed somewhere I could go all out. Somewhere I could build what I needed to be a proper Hero.

I straightened up and resumed pushing the trolley, another five or ten minutes and I'd be home. I was making good headway when movement caught my eye.

I ducked behind the trolley, turning my head slowly to track the two men who came around the corner of a building and opened its front door. In the yellow light spilling out I could easily see that one wore a red and black jacket- Empire colours.

The two went inside, the closing of the door throwing the street back into dim lighting. I heaved a sigh, it was so lucky they hadn't seen me, good thing I wasn't going to go this way again.

I pushed myself up and something touched my back. I whirled around, grip tightening on my pistol, the ominous glowing hum starting up as the pressure pates were activated-

 _Thinks I'm a new tinker, hopes I'm friendly, dislikes Kaiser, dislikes Skidmark, likes Miss Militia, thinks they can take me in a fight_

I stared dead into the shocked eyes of another masked and hooded teenage girl standing two meters away, heart pounding with freezing sureness that she absolutely could not take me in a fight.

"Who're you and why are you following me?" I asked coldly.

The other girl, obviously a parahuman, pretended to say something. That is, I could see her mouth moving beneath her ski mask but no sound came out.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

I slowly lowered my other hand to my belt and switched off the Sonic Dampener, immediately all the sounds I should have been hearing all night burst into existence.

I hadn't noticed, I'd turned it on before I left the house and I hadn't even noticed.

The girl jerked and cast a look at my gun as its hum became audible to her.

I lowered the gun, face burning red beneath my bandanna. It stopped glowing and humming.

"I apologise for that," I said as coolly and calmly as possible. "You're right in thinking I'm a new tinker"

She took a step forward warily, "me too, I didn't mean to make you shit your britches like that"

She spoke with a faint British accent and as she stepped closer I could see she was quite short.

I toyed the switch on my pistol that would change its setting from stun to BN.

"Would you like me to actually make you shit yours?"

"No," said the girl in a tone that made it sound like I was an idiot for asking such a stupid question.

I clenched my teeth, "out with it then, why're you following me?"

"Ok, so I was, like, doing the whole thing where you go out and find a gangster to test your powers on, right? And then I saw you creepin' about nickin' everyone's rubbish, but I couldn't get your attention, so I followed you a bit," she took another step closer.

Ok, that did it. No more sneaking out at night until I knew I would go unseen.

"Well, why did it take you so long to actually get my attention? Something touched me, and you were too far away"

She shrugged, "I wanted to see what you were up to with all that junk, but then you looked like you were about to shoot up those guys so I nudged you with a ghostie"

I flinched as a flicker of shadow, darker than black, flew out from behind me. A vaguely human shaped sliver of darkness the size of a tea mug, it hovered next to the girls head for a moment before diving into her chest and vanishing.

"Amusing," I said, restraining myself from shooting her.

"Thanks," the girl smiled. "So you're a tinker/thinker, yeah?"

 _How did she know?_ Oh, right. I said she was right to think I was a new tinker with absolutely nothing about the conversation prompting me to do that. Should I tell her, this stranger on what was presumably her first jaunt as a parahuman?

"I'd rather not say"

"Well," she said, "I'm a master, obviously, of ghosts"

I opened my mouth to speak but a clicking sound echoed softly from across the road. I grabbed the girl by the arm and dragged her down with me as I hid behind the trolley again.

The two men ambled out of the building and down the sidewalk, heading in the direction I had just come from. They were seeming too intent on chatting and lighting cigarettes to notice us.

I licked my lips, "you still need to test your power?"

"Uh, what if they're only wearing the colours and we get busted by the po-po?"

The thought hadn't actually occurred to me, I figured if you were brave enough to wear gang colours you had it coming.

I stood up and grasped the handle of the trolley, "Good point. Well, I still need to get this back to the rest of my stash"

"I'll come with you," the girl said brightly, getting to her feet.

"It's not exactly at a place I can share"

The girl nodded easily, "righto, but hey, what's your PHO account? We should meet up and see what our powers can do before we join the Wards or whatever"

The Wards. I'd thought about joining, briefly, but I figured it would be just more bullshit drama like school. Plus now I really didn't want Armsmaster or Director Piggot to know that their newest recruit was the same person who threw a bitchfit in her office.

"I wasn't planning on joining the Wards"

"Uh, why?"

She said it incredulously, like I was mad, like it was the only smart choice available.

"You're a tinker! They'd literally pay you to just sit around all day building shit to keep you out of a gang, you wouldn't even have to go out and fight anyone or do much of anything"

"I'm more of a solo hero"

I could sense her dismay, everything about her body language radiated disbelief.

"No," she whispered harshly. "No, no, no. If tonight is the sort of showing you're going to give you're gonna get yourself killed, or worse, kidnapped. You're terrible at this, your gear malfunctioned and you let me sneak up on you. What if I was a bad guy? I could have thrashed you. Everything you did goes against The List"

I tilted my head, my power was telling me she was genuinely worried because she thought I was a colossal idiot. I thought back over my actions tonight, which included not making sure my Sonic Dampener worked properly and giving tells that I was a thinker.

But I couldn't just admit I was a fuckup out loud.

"Ok, what's your account? We can meet up and talk about this list"

"Um, it's Xxx_smugfrog420…" she trailed off. "I've been meaning to make a new account anyway, just tell me yours"

There was an awkward silence that for once I didn't start or understand.

"RenaissanceRose, both words capitalised"

"I'll send you a PM saying '12345', my user name will probably have something to do with ghosts"

I nodded, "we can discuss where to meet up from there"

The girl stuck out her hand and I awkwardly shook it.

"Lucky we met," she said. "Imagine if I met Kaiser on my first night out, I'd probably give up. I got a good feeling about this though, check your PM's when you wake up before school"

I saluted her with my gun and she slunk away until she became indistinguishable with the background.

I put the gun back in my pocket, switched on the Sonic Dampener, grabbed hold of the trolley and started walking; the icy compulsion for conflict of my power ignored. Excitement swelled in my chest, what were the odds I'd meet another new friendly unaligned parahuman in my first week of going out and getting stuff done?

Part of me was thrilled, another part wracked with trepidation. What if she also went to Winslow, was someone who knew of me? It was statistically unlikely, I told myself, there were three other high schools in the city; Arcadia, Immaculata and Clarendon. She probably went to one of them.

I hadn't made the best impression tonight, but unprepared tinker was miles better than downtrodden bully victim and it was one I could fix easily. One I could start fixing right now.

I compulsively checked over my shoulder every thirty seconds to make sure I wasn't being followed, but even so I took a detour and abandoned my trolley. I doubled back around the block, then crouched in sight of the trolley. Ten minutes passed with no disturbances and I once more claimed the trolley and resumed my trek home.

No lights came on as I wheeled down my street, no movement in windows caught my eye. I slipped around the back of my house and opened the door I left unlocked. It swung open soundlessly. Now for the hard part, wheeling the trolley through the house by memory and getting it down the stairs to the basement without falling down and killing myself.

I shrugged, it would probably be fine.


	4. Doubling up 1-4

Every step sent another bone deep ache shooting up my leg from where I'd repeatedly banged my shin in the darkness trying to get my loot into the basement. The same spot, every time.

Today had been an odd day. In the morning I had agreed to meet up with a girl I was increasingly sure was related to Crusader the Empire cape, I'd heard families often got very similar powers and Crusader was also able to summon ghostly apparitions. Her dislike of Kaiser might mean nothing, surely not all neo-nazi's would like him. My suspicion was compounded by having met her in Empire territory. However, I would be able to check all of this when I saw her.

Then during lunchtime at school I had gotten the most insincere, perfunctory apology I had ever heard from Madison Clements; one of my prime bullies. Apparently Principal Blackwell had called her and Emma into her office and told them off. Funny how now that she had nothing to gain from my suffering she could be bothered to do the bare minimum to stop it. And apparently that was all it took, all that bullying stopped by a scolding. I almost wished it would take more, that my problems weren't so petty as to be just swept aside, that they weighed as much as they felt they did.

It was cold comfort that Sophia was probably being slammed by the PRT, I hoped she went to juvie and got shanked. Serve her right.

I kicked a piece of gravel, it bounced over the gutter and onto the grass of the largest and best kept park in Brockton Bay. It was here, well out of any gang territory, I had agreed to meet 'Nasaghast'.

The grass crunched underfoot as I made my way to the largest gazebo, which was thankfully empty, and sat down on one of the benches arrayed around the inner edge. My foot bounced restlessly as time seemed to crawl by.

I should make a phone, I thought, then I could at least play Su Do Ku or something. A utilitarian comm. device, outfitted with a thumbprint scanner. A nanoelectric CPU, a multi vector scanner to pierce through sufficiently unprotected networks. It would look like an ordinary smartphone, but be capable of calling anyone anywhere via a tracker…

Something to think on later, for now I needed all my wits about me.

The minutes dragged on, tension growing. Was this a set up? A classic honey trap operation? It'd figure; bullying dealt with I get kidnapped by Nazis.

"Oi!"

I whipped around at the voice and saw a teenage girl walking up to the gazebo. She looked to be the right height, dressed on the edgy side of normal fashion; leather jacket, black jeans, some kind of bright pink band t-shirt. She had short black hair and very dark eyes.

 _Dislikes Crusader_

Well, that still technically proved nothing. People didn't like their relatives all the time, but it was enough.

"Why are you so late?"

Nasaghast arched one eyebrow imperiously, "I'm never late, nor am I early"

I shook my head, "I've been here for nearly half an hour, you're late"

She went a bit pink, "it takes ages to walk here from Immaculata"

Immaculata was the catholic school, a prime target for Nazis.

"Well, sit down and we can start," I gestured to the bench opposite.

Nasaghast walked into the gazebo and took the offered seat, slinging her schoolbag to the ground and crossing her legs.

"Right, so you wanted to know about the list?"

I nodded.

"Ok so, the list is actually a guide for being a supervillain but has a lot of useful tips that work for hero's, like triple checking that your gear works like you think it does, not gloating about your powers and not provoking enemies you can't beat. I'll send you a link, but that isn't what _I_ wanted to talk to you about"

She stood up, walked over and plopped herself down next to me. Here it was, she was going to tell me she was Empire and that I should help her on her noble quest to expunge the city of ethnic minorities.

"I'm _super_ into the whole independent hero thing," she whispered. "And you being a tinker makes it possible, we should team up. I have _so_ many plans"

"Hmmm," I nodded like I had expected this all along. "And why should I agree to this?"

"So you don't end up like every other lone tinker, even Dragon had to join up with The Guild"

It was true, a tinker without a supply network or backup usually ended up conscripted into a gang or dead. It was almost universal, the compulsion to create got too strong. It wasn't like you could just give up tinkering, and without a supply network or backup you were left vulnerable; especially in the early stages.

But the thing was, did I want to team up with _her?_

Of course I fucking did. Even I had to acknowledge that deep down I was pretty desperate.

I nodded again, slowly, like I was considering my options.

"Very well," I said mildly, extending my hand out. It shouldn't have been this hard, but my palm was sweaty and my heart hammered against my ribs. "Taylor Hebert"

"Cassie Carter," her face spread into a grin of childlike joy, her handshake way too tight.

My suspicion of her being a Nazi dropped to around 5% as my power informed me she was ecstatic about being in a team with me, and while she could be happy about a chance to slowly lure me into her Nazi trap it felt nicer than that. It reminded me of getting a really good Christmas present as a kid.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked.

"First off, powers," Cassie clapped her hands as if to punctuate the point. "Obviously. We need to know what we can do before we actually go and do anything"

That made sense.

"I'm a master, I can make exactly fifteen of those little black ghosts. I might have a thinker power since I can sense people through them, there's no one nearby by the way, not sure how it's all classified though"

"Do they do anything?" I asked. "Or are they just bits of shadowy stuff?"

"Nah, they're pretty strong and you can smack 'em outta the air. Also I'm pretty sure I can control people with them, but I've never tried it"

"PRT won't like that"

It was common knowledge that master powers that controlled people were both feared and frowned upon, for obvious reasons.

Cassie shrugged, "that's their problem"

A tense silence descended between us. I checked her with my power, confirming that yes she did want to test it on me.

"Go on then," I said bracingly, "as long as you're sure it won't hurt me"

"Ok," she said as a writhing bulge protruded from her chest, moving up and out of the neckline. The ghost hovered silently in front of me. Now that I got a better look at it was downright creepy. The vague shape of a man, merging into amorphousness and back, it glared with little pinprick eyes of light.

Cassie screwed up her face in concentration, "I think it goes like…this?"

The ghost shot at my face, crashing into my chin. My head snapped back but it hung on, tiny hands forcing my jaw open. I thrashed, trying to throw it off but it slipped between my teeth and threw itself down my throat. I could feel it crawling down my gullet, it was like swallowing too much food. I couldn't breathe, my power reacted, flooding me with ice. Then, nothing.

"I don't feel any different," I said, looking up at Cassie's horrified expression. "What?"

"Your lips have gone all grey, and you have this weird look on your face. Totally not good, so not good"

I looked at my hands, which had acquired a greyish tinge. I schooled my expression into a natural one, I knew how to of course. This level of deception was trivial.

"Oh no, that's even weirder. You look too calm, and you're still all grey looking"

I made myself look slightly less calm, "how much can you make people do?"

If this controlled people like she thought, it opened up all manner of avenues. A crew of fifteen, working tirelessly to bring me new materials, securing funds to purchase the more exotic parts. Parahumans even, enslaved muscle. We would need to hit the merchants first and take Squealer.

"This is seriously weird," Cassie said. "Let's try it again later"

I shook my head.

"Waste of time, I'm going to punch you. Make me stop"

I cocked my fist back and let fly. My effort petered out almost as soon as I started, I just didn't really want to hit her anymore.

"Well it works," I said. "I don't want to"

I tried taking another swing, but what was the point, really? Too much of a bother, hitting her was just something I didn't want to do.

I felt like maybe I could if I tried hard enough, but I just couldn't be fucked.

My throat bulged, something squirming up from deep inside me. I heaved, a sliver of shadow bursting out.

I blinked, had I really just been about to smack Cassie in the mouth? _Had I wanted to enslave people?!_ I had, I would have done it and felt nothing. A cold shiver wracked my spine.

"You're going to have to be really careful with that, I think it turned me into a psycho"

The ghost retreated into her chest, "that was fucked up, you nearly hit me. At least I know it works, but jeez. That was legit scary"

"Maybe just use them to hit people and lift things, yeah?"

Cassie murmured in agreement.

"Right," I said, after a moment of shared pensive silence. "Me. As far as I know I have three powers. A universal tinker one, a relationship empathy sense and a thinker power that makes me smarter"

Cassie's face scrunched up in total disbelief, "sounds like bullshit. Ain't like no tinker I ever heard of, tinker/thinker is rare enough without unrelated powers stacked on top"

I frowned, "it sounds better than it is, right now they're all really weak and only get stronger when I get in a fight. And even that isn't that good, since I get this urge to keep fighting until I win, it's like my heart starts pumping ice instead of blood"

"Is there a level cap on that?"

"Maybe," I shrugged. "It's not like I've had much of a chance to test it, and the power boost doesn't stick around for long. I got a tiny boost when you ghosted me, but not enough that to really feel it. Squealer is probably a better tinker than me most of the time"

"So we both have villain powers," Cassie snorted. "Great. Maybe we should just start a gang, be a threatening version of Uber and Leet"

I was pretty sure she was joking, but on the off chance… I revised her likelihood of being a Nazi to 7%.

"So are you gonna do a demonstration?" she continued.

"I'll show you my tech later, but uhh… your favourite local hero is Assault, you feel a bit guilty for the ghost thing since it looked like it hurt, you admire Uber for some reason? Really?" I asked incredulously. Who in their right mind admired _Uber?_

"He might be a complete scumbag, but him and Leet run a tight ship. How long have they been around?"

"Years"

"Exactly," Cassie pointed at me for emphasis. "Independent villains never last, and Leet's tinker shit backfires all the time, right? Then how did they last so long?"

I shrugged, having never bothered to think about the D-list loser duo of Brockton Bay in years. They were fairly well known for their video game themed crimes and stunts and getting their asses kicked on their live streamed web show.

"By pretending to suck. Don't you think it's weird that Leet can't build the same thing twice but keeps pulling spectacular tinkertech out of the bag whenever they're about to lose for good? Or Uber, who can do anything at master levels, gets kicked around until he out-fucking-skills everyone at the last second? It's all a ruse. They're actually what I'm basing the start of our career on, not the pretending to suck part, but seeming relatively _harmless_ "

"Well, it does make sense," I said, "but I don't buy it, they're one jail sentence away from the Birdcage"

"Doesn't mean anything, they got arrested by Armsmaster last time. No one can fault them for that"

I nodded, it still sounded like rubbish but I didn't really care enough to argue the point.

"What did you have planned with the whole career thing?" I asked. "I'll need a while to get us decked out but we should be able to start patrolling pretty soon"

"Patrolling?" Cassie looked at me like I was an idiot. "Do you wanna get knifed by a crackhead?"

I didn't reply.

"Nah mate," she continued. "What we gotta do is settle in and take it easy until we get out of school, I'm in senior year so it shouldn't be too long for me, and do stuff like introduce ourselves to the police and the PRT and do PR stuff. In a few months we'll maybe try for some minor crime stopping, see if we can get in with the cops on a bust or something, go on some of the _safe_ patrols they get the Wards to do"

"That sounds a whole lot like we'll just be sitting around, jerking ourselves off at how cool we are," I retorted scathingly.

"I'd rather have a wank fest than get shot at," Cassie shot back. "We'll have plenty of time for that when we're properly set up with official backup and have all day to prepare"

It made sense, it was perfectly logical. Be prepared. It was probably one of the things on that list. It was what everyone else would want too, dad would have kittens if he knew what I'd been doing the last few nights. Stay in school, don't be reckless.

But it just seemed so… cowardly. Weak. Boring. Like it was squandering my potential. I could do so much more, I knew I could.

Maybe she'd change her mind after I made us some bulletproof armour. Some kind of carbon nanotube weave stuffed with impact gel underneath nanocomposite magnesium alloy plating. We would fly of course, once my tinker power was strong enough to build a smaller version of the anti-grav accelerator, and have power armour if I could manage it.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Years, there's dozens of forums for this shit. Never thought I'd trigger though, and now I actually get to do it!"

I still had this weird twisting feeling that not immediately going out and fighting crime was Wrong somehow. It was one of those feelings you knew was right even after a much better alternative was offered.

"Well," I said heavily. "We're going to need a base I can build a workshop in"

"Yeah, that's gonna be a bitch to get," Cassie slouched, crossing her arms. "I'm not sure how the abandoned building scene in the neutral zones is"

"I'm sure we'll find one, even if it has to be on the edge. And even then, I can probably sell some of the stuff I make and we can rent somewhere nice"

I didn't really like the idea of selling my tech, but tinker made gear sold at a premium despite its unreliability in the hands of anyone but its maker; tinkertech could only be maintained or repaired by the tinker who made it. Thousands of dollars could be made in a single sale, tens of thousands even, depending on the item and the buyer.

"That should work well, considering you can make pretty much anything," Cassie smiled.

"Except clocks," I said. "But I _can_ build a timer that functions exactly the same without actually being a clock"

"Fucking tinkers," she scoffed. "How do they work?"

I threw my hands up in defeat, "as far as I'm concerned, it's magic"

"Nah, nah," Cassie grinned, squinting and raising both her hands like she was holding the answer between them. " _Aliens_ "

I laughed. It was a well-known conspiracy theory that parahuman powers were some kind of hyper-advanced alien testing bed, explaining away the revelation of parahumans having extra parts in their brain as aliens did it; as if no one would notice little grey men coming in and giving people brain surgery.

How delightfully silly.

"So we'll do some research online and go look for places on the weekend?" I asked once we had stopped chuckling.

"Sounds good," Cassie nodded. "What year are you in, by the way, in school?"

"Ten, at Winslow. I turn sixteen in October"

"Huh, pegged you as older. It's unfair you're so tall"

She then muttered something under breath that sounded like, 'manlets'. Whatever that was.

"Thanks," I said awkwardly.

There was another moment of silence.

Cassie broke it first. "Well, I can't think of anything else we can't hash out via PM, oh! Do you have a phone?"

I shook my head, "I'll make us some, and they'll be dozens of times better than any smartphone, a thousand times more secure"

"But no clock?" she raised her eyebrow mockingly.

I rolled my eyes.

"Well," Cassie said as we stood, "I'll send you those links and shit and we can check Google maps for abandoned buildings"

We awkwardly shook hands and went our separate ways.

I reasoned it was now 1% likely she was a Nazi.


	5. Doubling up 1-5

Finding an appropriate abandoned building was way easier than I thought it would be, so either Brockton Bay was far shittier than I realised or there was some conspiracy afoot. The first place we checked was taken by what were presumably a group of homeless people, Cassie's ghosts could apparently only detect the number and approximate proximity of people.

The second place, what was essentially a shed near a rusted out hulk of a warehouse in the docks, was completely clean; of people if not dust, dirt and spiders. It wasn't big, but it wasn't small. It seemed to be roughly the size of a school classroom and might be a tight squeeze to fit everything I wanted, but for now it would easily hold my planned forge, carbon weaver, various tool boxes and work benches.

"Can you make a tinkertech hoover?" Cassie griped as she ran a finger lightly down a wall, gathering a thick coating of dust.

"A what?"

"A vacuum cleaner, you fucking septic"

I thought for a moment, but nothing came to mind. Was this the same weird restriction as not being able to make a clock? Could I get around this by fashioning one out of a vehicle intake turbine that sat over a collection bin? Yes.

"Technically, no. I can make something that behaves like one though, not sure how well it would work though; and don't call me that"

"It's meant to be banter," she muttered. "You were supposed to call me a slimy limey or something"

I didn't respond, walking further into the shed. I was sure banter was supposed to be both fun and funny, not just insults.

"What about base defence? We're gonna have to make sure no one can get in here but us"

Once again my power was stumped, while I could make tough materials and then later arrange them into base armour, or make automated turrets and locked doors and traps, they were all parts of other things I would need to repurpose. The concept of 'base defence' just wasn't in my tinkertech repository.

"Again, technically no," I frowned deeply, maybe I wasn't a universal tinker after all. "But it'll be secure. It'll cost us though, how much is magnesium?"

Cassie shrugged.

"Does your plan have anything about money in it?"

Cassie cocked her head thoughtfully, "well the next step in my master plan was to survive off of public donations, like New Wave, it wouldn't do for us to crash and burn with no survivors because we didn't have money for gear. Obviously we have to front the start-up ourselves and get popular enough for backers, so we're gonna have to tough it out like big guys until our first gen gear and costumes are done"

"Which I'm going to have to do all the work on," I said.

"Deal with it, Tinkerbell," Cassie smirked. "Just concentrate on making those fancy armour suits you were talking about, I'll do us some costumes to go over them. Speaking of, do you have any preference of aesthetics or theme?"

"Something intimidating, but still heroic. Like Alexandria, oh!" I gasped. "We still need names"

"Yeah," said Cassie as we turned and walked back out of the shed, heaving the door closed behind us. "About that, you can't be a tinker, at least not until we can defend ourselves from everyone wanting to jack your shit. You gotta pick a name that makes you sound like an empath, but can also sound kinda tinker-like in the right context"

That made sense, I didn't much like it, but it made sense. I didn't want my best feature to go unappreciated for years.

"You have any ideas for yours?" I asked as our feet crunched over the gravel and weeds.

"M.D. Geist, Wraith Storm, Ghaster, Walpurgisnacht, Gengar, Spectre, uh… Ghost Girl… I have a list at home"

"Nice choices, except Ghost Girl," I paused thoughtfully. "I'm sure Walpurgisnacht is taken though"

And German. At this point I was certain she wasn't actually a Nazi and that it was all just a series of coincidences that she lived in Empire territory, went to Immaculata and had a power similar to an Empire cape's. If she was she would have slipped up by now, surely. Not a single 'Sieg Heil' or veiled complaint about ethnic minorities.

"Doesn't matter," said Cassie. "It's not like cape names are copyrighted, and we're independents anyway so it's not like anyone can tell us no"

We walked on toward the Boardwalk, which was the swanky tourist area of town near the docks, in thoughtful silence.

A thinker sounding name that could still be used for a tinker… Think Tank? Megamindinator. Brightspark. Sparkmind. Alloy of Thought. Intel Core.

Hmmm…

"Does it matter if we end up changing names after we go out in public with them?" I broke the silence.

"Oh," said Cassie. "Um, depends on like, if we want to keep our reputation up. Capes don't normally change names, usually if they change from villain or hero or the Protectorate thinks their name is bad for PR. Since cape identities are like a brand, even if everyone knows it's us, we lose out if we change that; lots of capes get stuck with shit names by the public. Just gotta make sure you tell 'em yours first"

"Which we obviously will"

"Obviously," Cassie smirked. "We'll need a team name too, and business cards"

I thought for a moment, concentrating on drawing out flashes of my tinker inspiration. I wasn't sure if I could build a paper printer, but maybe with some kind of low power laser cutter I could burn the words onto a piece of ink treated card. It might even be cheaper than buying a printer.

Our path brought us back out near the main part of the boardwalk, people packed in like sardines for the Saturday lunch rush. I got the feeling Cassie wanted to buy lunch, but I didn't have any money. I clenched my hands in my pockets, knees weak, palms sweaty. It shouldn't be this hard.

"Bit crowded, want to go to my place for lunch? I live pretty close," I managed to say without stuttering. "We can look over my tinker designs, see if it gives us some inspiration for names"

"Oh!" Cassie said in obvious surprise. "Yeah, that'd be great! I've always wanted to see how tinker stuff works"

"Come on then," I set off with a motion that probably looked as awkward and jerky as it felt.

This was where the real gamble was, and I was betting on her not being a Nazi. Showing her where I lived? I knew it was risky, and if I hadn't had a thinker power I might never have even told her my last name. Or first name for that matter. Really, if I thought she was a Nazi I probably would have sold her out to the Protectorate. But I didn't, so I hadn't.

The walk from the Boardwalk to my house took a little under half an hour, to which Cassie took exception.

"That was not 'pretty close'," she griped. "Five minutes is pretty close, that was forever"

I shrugged as I led the way up the front steps, the third one from the bottom creaking as I stepped on it, half an hour of walking wasn't that far. To me at least.

I pulled the loosely hanging screen door open then twisted the main doorknob, pushing my way inside.

"Dad," I called out, "I'm back!"

"How did it go?" he called back. After a moment his head came into view from around the corner of the lounge room, he looked mildly surprised for a moment.

"Hello," he said, smiling. "You must be Cassie, I'm Danny. Nice to meet you"

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey," said Cassie from behind me.

There was another, more awkward, pause.

"It was fine," I said. "But we, uh, decided to come here for lunch"

I turned to look at Cassie, but she was staring off at the wall somewhere and wouldn't meet my eye.

Dad's eyes crinkled with some kind of mirth I couldn't identify as he smiled again, "righto, I'll be watching tv if you need anything"

He ambled back into the lounge room, the faint sounds of the television ratcheting up a few notches.

"Come on," I motioned and headed up the stairs to my room. We clomped up the stairs and turned right, along the small hallway and headed into my room.

I used my heel to force my shoes off and kicked them into the corner. I moved to the bed and ferreted around under it, pulling out my sketchbooks of designs and sitting down on the covers.

"How much did you tell your dad?" Cassie hovered around the foot of the bed. "About the stuff"

"That we met when I went for a walk in the park after school, you go to Immaculata and you're from the UK"

"England, actually," she picked up one of the books, sat down and started flicking through it.

I didn't know what difference that distinction made, but there was probably no point talking about it. I opened my newest cheap lined notebook to the next free page, just in case I got some inspiration from this.

"Whereabouts in England, then?"

"Yorkshire," Cassie replied absently. "Are these _guns?_ "

I peered over her shoulder, the sketches of some sleek, futuristic looking assault rifle jogging my memory. It was probably best not to mention I designed those the day we were supposed to meet, because we were supposed to meet.

"Yeah," I grinned. "So if you ever want to get into arms dealing, I can make some pretty good guns"

"Maybe as a plan B… so that thing you were pointing at me, you never actually explained what that was"

Her tone was light, but with an undercurrent of accusation.

"Sonic pistol," I assured her. "Nothing even close to lethal, I could have only given you really bad vertigo or hit you with the brown note"

"So when you threatened to actually make me shit myself, you were serious?!" she said, her expression halfway between elation and horror.

"I haven't actually tested it yet, but yeah," I nodded. "I was serious"

Cassie chortled, "that'll be a laugh when we finally start taking your obvious stuff out with us, the police are gonna end up fuckin' hating us for it though"

I laughed, "yeah I can imagine. After the first dozen or so gangsters they have to hose off before putting them in the car they'll probably wonder if we're doing it on purpose"

Cassie put down the book and picked up another, I usually tried to keep like inventions with like inventions; guns to one book and so on. I didn't really have many schematics written down either, so this probably wouldn't take long.

"Is this a Catbus?" she exclaimed, holding the loose piece of paper torn out of my schoolbook up to her face. "You definitely have to make us this, top priority after the armour, it's perfect! Oh fuck yes, I just realised what our outfits are going to be. You leave that part to me, I'll make us the most non-threateningly intimidating, heroic capes in the world"

Honestly, there were worse things to be than a cat themed superhero. A cape by the name of Mouse Protector was a well-respected member of the Protectorate, so it wasn't like you couldn't spin something as harmless sounding as that into something Heroic.

"As long as we steer clear of anything that looks like the Siberian"

Cassie murmured in agreement, nobody wanted to be like the Siberian. One of the worst criminals in the world, an indestructible serial killer with super strength, she travelled around with one of the worst criminal groups in the world; the Slaughterhouse Nine.

"I know you said you were really into the independent hero scene," I said before the topic faded from my mind. "But how are you on joining the Protectorate?"

"I thought you didn't want to join the Protectorate?" She replied, nonplussed.

"No, I said I didn't want to join the wards," I replied.

Cassie looked at me in abject confusion, like I was some kind of void in the world through which flowed a fountain information beyond human understanding.

A quick check with my power told me she thought I was being completely illogical and irrational. It made perfect sense to me. The Wards were highschool for capes who never got to do anything worthwhile, the Protectorate were the cape version of Special Forces who only ever did worthwhile things.

I explained this to her, to which she replied that I didn't get what the Wards were about and trying to do what the Protectorate did at our age was stupid and dangerous.

"Dangerous," I said. "But not stupid, my power works best under those conditions"

"But how do you _know_? You've never even tested that"

"I just know"

Cassie sighed and shrugged, "we'll find out eventually, you better not be lying"

"I promise I'm not. I've barely scraped the surface of my power, I can feel it"

"Well," she replied. "It's your funeral, anyway, what's for lunch?"

The rest of the afternoon passed smoothly, though we didn't get much done besides penning a few tentative names for me and the team, and making a bunch of false starts on tinkertech designs before producing anything of actual quality.

Cassie's mother ended up driving to our place to pick her up before dinner. She seemed nice, sharing the same short build and round features as her daughter, but with a much stronger accent.

Just as I was about to turn off my laptop and go to bed, an alert flashed notifying me I had a message on PHO. It was from Cassie, I opened it.

 _Nasaghast: hey i mocked up our costumes, clck on_ __

I clicked and was greeted with a drawing of what was obviously meant to be us but I was pretty sure my breasts weren't that big.

 _Who are we supposed to be_ , I typed back, _the Nazi Slut Cats?_

There was a pause for a minute where I clicked refresh every few seconds, waiting for her to reply.

 _Nasaghast: Uh, for 1. The empire doesn't own the colours red and black, 2. we're not even showing any skin and 3. eat shit, those designs are dank af mayne 4. no villain would ever wear so much gold_

 _They won't fit over the armour,_ I typed, _but they do look pretty cool. Why am I holding a gun?_

 _Nasaghast: it's a first concept piece don't sweat the details_

I stared at the picture some more between typing messages, even though it did have a vague Empire 88 feel to it the outfits did look intimidating and heroic; apart from the helmets. If we could ever manage to get them to look like in the picture in real life, they were costumes I really wouldn't mind wearing.


	6. Doubling up 1-6

The bell rang, signalling the end of fifth period. Just one more class to go and surprisingly I was looking forward to it. It was all so easy now, compared to before. In just two short weeks art, math, english, programming; it all flowed out so smoothly. I didn't know if it was because of my powers or because I'd forgotten how easy school used to be when I wasn't being harassed all day, but I wasn't about to start complaining.

I was even a natural at kickboxing, apparently. Either that or whatever stuff Cassie could remember from her lessons as a kid was just really easy. But what was really good about that, was that even sparring triggered my power; when I got hit hard enough at least. It wasn't much now, but when I got our armour done and we could beat the shit out of each other as hard as we wanted I was sure I would see some real gains.

"Ms. Hebert," called a voice as I left the classroom.

I turned and frowned. Blackwell stood just outside the door, students flowing around her like water.

"What?"

"Please accompany me to my office, there are some things relating to our last talk I wanted to discuss."

I groaned internally, but nodded. I was sure this was going to be some kind of perfunctory meeting to make sure I wasn't about to go blab to anyone about her gross negligence, general incompetence and overall stupidity.

Blackwell turned and set off, her heels clacking loudly on the floor. I followed with a slouch, noticing that while she still wore her sombre attire and attitude there was a certain pep in her step. Was she happy about this, or was she just pleased she'd managed to throw another student under the bus earlier in the day?

We got to her office and I followed her inside. Miss Militia was sitting in one of the chairs.

Stars and Stripes scarf, stylised army fatigues. Yep, that was Miss Militia alright.

"Uh," I said.

 _Thinks she has good news for me_

Well, there was _that._ My power wasn't telling me what it was, but it was pretty obvious anyway.

"Ms. Hebert," she said, standing and shaking my hand. "Have you been keeping well?"

"Yeah," my smile made nervous by the writhing snakes that had suddenly taken up residence where my stomach used to be. "Everything's fine. Is this, uh, about Sophia?"

"It is, Director Piggot thought you might like to be informed that we've dealt with the situation. Sophia won't be in Brockton Bay any longer."

"Did you send her to juvie?" I asked, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Miss Militia shook her head, "No, but she has been transferred to the Protectorate branch in Phoenix with the provision that if she makes even one more mistake then yes, she will."

I didn't know how to feel about that. On one hand Sophia had been sent nearly all the way to the other side of the country. And on the other she hadn't been punished properly, she was still a Hero.

In fact, none of my bullies had actually been punished, what the fuck was up with that?

I sighed. Maybe it was because I had been in a good mood today but I just didn't feel like fighting about it. I wasn't going to get anything out of escalating either, except for the Director and Armsmaster to think I was an even bigger shit than they previously thought when Miss Militia reported back to them.

"Yeah," I said. "Ok, that's fine I guess. Um, and can you also apologise to the Director and Armsmaster for me? I was kind of…"

"I will, but there's no need," Miss Militia dug around in one of her pockets, retrieving a sealed envelope. "Part of why I'm here today is to give you an official written apology for us having failed you in the Shadow Stalker incident."

"And to thank me for letting you deal with it in-house instead of going public?"

She paused in the middle of handing the letter over, "That was helpful, yes. If you like I-"

 _Wonders how much I want_

Oh, she thought I was going to try to get money out of them or something? Could I? Not very heroic, though.

"-Can have that added to the apology."

"No," I reached out and took the letter, stuffing it into my backpack. "I didn't mean it like that, I was just…"

"I understand, from what we got Sophia to admit it's understandable for you to be angry."

Fucking PRT. Fucking Protectorate. At least my power was telling me Miss Militia actually thought she understood and wasn't just lying through her teeth.

"Thanks."

She smiled, her face crinkling behind the scarf. "Well, I'm afraid I have a schedule to keep so I can't stay. It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Hebert."

We shook hands. Miss Militia and Blackwell shook hands. It was all fuckin' peachy.

"Well," said Blackwell after Miss Militia had closed the door and left. "Wasn't that nice?"

I shot her a look of disgust. "How the fuck have you not been fired yet?"

"I expect I would have been if the PRT had wanted to explain why I was," Blackwell sat behind her desk, obviously trying to conceal how fucking smug she felt. "But this way we all win. There was another thing I wanted to talk to you about, I hear you've been doing very well in class these past two weeks. Well enough that if you keep this up I can fast track you onto the honour roll despite your previously poor grades."

Had Blackwell always been such a fucking piece of work?

"Can we just make it so I never have to be in this office again?"

"So long as you don't cause any trouble then I see no reason for you to be."

Oh fuck her, I was gonna go cause some trouble.

* * *

I had to wait for school to end, forty minutes in English class tapping my foot and building up a charge.

It was time to go and wring the truth out of Emma.

I knew where she had her last class and headed straight there, she was standing in the middle of the hallway chatting with Madison. They noticed me somehow, turning to watch me walk up to them. I almost chickened out, but all I needed was for my power to-

"Emma," I said with icy confidence. "We need to have a word."

"Fuck off, Taylor," she said.

I shook my head slowly, "I want to know _why_."

I flicked my gaze over to Madison, instantly knowing she'd take the first excuse to leave and avoid getting stuck in an awkward situation and potentially get in trouble with Blackwell again.

"Leave."

Madison gave me a contemptuous look and rolled her eyes, "It's not like you need my help sorting out this retard, I'll wait for you out front, Emms."

 _Not happy at Madison for leaving_

"So easily your friends abandon you," I said as I watched Madison walkaway down the hall. "Was Sophia the only one with a spine?"

"Christ you're pretentious," Emma sighed, checking her nails.

A classic deflection tactic.

"I'll take that as a yes," I looked at her with disgust. "So now that your bodyguard has been vanished and you have no one left to back you up, _why?_ "

"Oh why what?" Emma crossed her arms impatiently.

"What happened to you to make you stab me in the back?"

I didn't trust her to tell the truth, of course. That was what my power was for. Here it was, the moment of truth.

 _Thinks I'm boring, feels minor guilt at getting caught, doesn't want to talk to me, thinks I'm being weird._

"You're annoying."

"So that was it all along, huh?" I seethed. "You were just complete scum? All that shit you put me through, stealing my mother's flute, pushing me in the locker, it was all for fun?"

Emma scoffed, "It was just a prank, lighten up."

"If it was just a prank," I hissed. "Then _where's Sophia?_ "

Emma scowled and a piece of information clicked into place, something that had been drifting around in the back of my head for a while.

"Of course you knew! PRT not letting you talk to Shadow Stalker? You guys really fucked up."

Emma flushed, "I thought that was how you did it-"

"Ironic, isn't it?" I jeered. "Did you know everyone there hated her too? How fucking sad is that? Your hero was nothing but a sad little girl who was lucky someone was selfish enough to cover for her."

"Don't you fucking start talking shit about shit you don't know," Emma stepped in closer, slowly reddening in anger.

"Oh spare me, though it figures you'd idolise a piece of shit thug like her."

"Shut the fuck up!" Emma hissed.

I read the connection between Emma and Sophia. It was much the same as before, but now it had an undercurrent of distress. She really did like Sophia way more than she ever did me, that shallow, traitorous, backstabbing _whore_.

"I'll give you one more fucking chance to tell the truth, the whole truth, about why you turned out to be such a cunt."

I read her once more, my power barely higher than at the start, and received much the same answer. There was no real reason. It was probably even lamer than I feared, nothing more than a passing suggestion from Sophia that she trip me one day, or call me a name and then it all just spiralled out of control because she had new friends who laughed when she did it and she didn't really care because it was all just a prank, so why was I taking it so seriously?

"Oh just fuck off and leave me alone, you bit-"

I punched her as hard as I could in the stomach and walked off.


	7. Doubling up 1-7: Interlude Madison

"The twist at the end was so good though," Madison said, slotting her Math book into her binder and snapping the clasps closed. School was over and she could finally, _finally,_ talk about Paranatural with Emma. It was _so_ good, a parahuman crime thriller where a pair of sisters, Simone and Denise Wesson, drove around the country putting down small-time criminal parahumans.

"I still think she couldn't have made that shot," Emma replied as we walked out into the hall. "It's unrealistic, bullets can't ricochet like that."

Emma always used that argument, ' _This fictional entertainment isn't realistic enough, bullets don't do that, a human can't lose that much blood and still be alive, blah blah blah'_. Like, boo hoo, go watch a documentary.

"That's why she was given a Thinker Zero rating, so that she could do stuff like that."

"That was even worse, what were the writers thinking?" Emma protested, once again completely missing the point of the Thinker Zero rating. "There's no such thing."

Madison shrugged in response, no amount of explaining that it was just a way to explain all the cool trick shots and Simone didn't actually have powers would get through to her.

"Sure," she said. "But the twist though, I didn't see their mother being both Sunlight Curse _and_ the person who killed her coming."

"I thought it was obvious, they made such a huge deal about her pretty amber eyes so when they revealed she was wearing contacts to cover up how yellow they were…" Emma trailed off, looking to the side and making an irritated noise.

Madison turned to see what she was looking at. Taylor was walking directly towards them, her jaw set and her eyes bugging out. She looked like she wanted to be doing anything else than this.

"Emma," Taylor said coolly, her features smoothing over into a somewhat confident glower. "We need to have a word."

That girl was so weird sometimes, but at least now she'd gone and done something to get them off her back. All the pranks had started to feel more and more like kicking a puppy lately. It was kind of weird, actually, how into it Emma and Sophia were but everyone needed a hobby. Not that Madison ever approved of hobbies that could actually get you into trouble, she had a perfect record to keep.

"Fuck off, Taylor," said Emma.

Taylor shook her head. If it was someone else the motion actually might have looked a little threatening, but Madison knew Taylor was too nice to actually do anything bad. "I want to know _why_."

Honestly, she should have known why by now. Emma was just kind of a bitch sometimes, and really, Taylor had been right a fortnight ago. It was kind of hard to trust someone who would just up and do that to someone who used to be their best friend. She was nice enough otherwise, but being that much of a bitch was probably something you'd hope she'd grow out of eventually; or at least hold back until they went to separate collages and Emma never had a chance or reason to turn on her.

"Leave."

Oh thank god.

"It's not like you need my help sorting out this retard," Madison rolled her eyes contemptuously. "I'll wait for you out front, Emms."

Madison turned and walked down the hall, joining the flow of students eager to finally leave. She knew Emma would whinge at her for leaving but avoiding trouble was more important. She bustled out with the main crowd and veered off to the left to sit on the benches attached to the building and wait.

It probably wouldn't take long, Taylor would ask pointless questions and use a lot of big words, Emma would levy some insults about her dead mother and things would die down.

She took out her smartphone, opened one of her social media apps and made a post about Paranatural. With that done she tapped her phone against her knee restlessly and scratched her ear, delicately painted fingernail scraping against her earring. It was new, just a stud bought from a kiosk with a cute crescent moon etched onto the face.

She flicked down the timeline of posts, reading many of the same ones she had seen at the end of lunch. She laughed at the dog image macro again, just like she had the last seven times. It was a classic that one, so she saved it to her phone.

A head of dark curly hair caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She turned to catch Taylor's eye, the taller girl giving her an angry look. Angry, and pleased. Triumphant.

Oh dear.

Madison stood up and slipped her phone back into her handbag, heaving a sigh. Time to go see what happened.

She walked back inside and saw Emma standing in the middle of a receding circle of students who looked disappointed there hadn't been a proper fight, red faced and breathing heavily, one hand on her ribs.

If Emma hadn't been her friend she really would have just laughed, there was a certain funny irony to it.

"I didn't think she'd ever actually hit you," Madison said instead, not bothering to sound worried or sympathetic. "You should have apologised earlier, like me."

"Oh fuck off, Mads," Emma snarled. "We're gonna have to get her back for this."

"No," Madison said. "Just leave it be, you heard what Blackwell said. One more slip up and we're fucked."

"Seriously?" Emma sneered.

"Yeah, you kind of deserve it for not apologising. Just take this one hit, it's not like Taylor's going to do anything else."

Emma groaned and wiped at her watering eyes, "You're such a wuss, we can't back down. Sophia wouldn't back down."

Sophia had also been taken out of school for whatever reason, but bringing that up always made Emma more upset.

"It's time we initiate Operation Back down," Madison said in a flash of inspiration, quoting one of the more famous lines of an earlier Paranatural season.

Emma scoffed, "No, I'm not letting this go."

Madison sighed, scratching at her ear again. If Emma wanted to risk getting expelled over a high school slap fight then that was _her_ business.


	8. Doubling up 1-8: Interlude Cassie

I shifted restlessly on the worn old couch, it heaved dust into the already dusty air of our Secret Base. Today was a big day for us, Taylor and I. She had finally finished making one of our suits of armour, I hadn't been allowed to see what the finished product looked like yet but if it was anything like the sketches we'd spent hours and hours of research on we'd look amazing.

Underneath our costumes where no one would ever see.

The harsh sound of metal scarping against metal echoed softly from behind the privacy screen, followed by a zipper being done up. Oh it had been so long since I'd been so giddy with anticipation, since before I triggered. I just had to tamp it down and _not sperg out._

The feedback from the half dozen ghosts I had out at any one time said no one was around, the base was routinely swept for bugs and tampering. We were as safe as we could be.

I shifted again, sweeping my hair off my face. _Soon._

Taylor's shadow shifted behind the curtain and she drew it back hesitantly. Honestly, if my eyes could get any wider they'd pop right out of me head.

The armour looked amazing, dozens of sleek, interlocking silver plates over black carbon fabric. Following the aesthetic of her other tinkertech she looked like a space soldier fucked a space ninja and she was their fuckin' sick space baby.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Fuckin' crushin' it, Tay-Tay, sexy as fuaarrrk!" I leapt to my feet and managed to not glomp her.

She must have really been hoping for positive feedback because she blushed even though she absolutely fucking hated being called Tay-Tay.

"I know!" she grinned widely, excitement bleeding through the embarrassment. "I was looking at myself in the mirror, it really came out as good as I could hope!"

She ran her hands down the chest plate, shaped to deflect both knives and bullets, and hugged herself, "Wanna give it a real field test?"

I nodded, grinning just as widely. Taylor crossed over to her desk, reached into the drawer and pulled out a gun.

"Oh shit, nigger, what are you doing!?" I scrambled backwards and fell over the couch.

"Relax," she said, flipping it around and holding it out to me. "The safety _is_ on."

I reached out and took the gun, because if I didn't Tay-Tay would definitely shoot herself. With a bullet, which our sensory equipment told us would be rib crackingly painful even with a regular gun. She might be my only friend, but that bitch was cray cray.

The pistol itself was made from a similar material to our armour and was very light. I didn't know what else she'd done to the internals, but the thing packed punch like Alexandria on meth.

I put it carefully down next to me.

"Fine," said Taylor, looking appropriately chastised. "Use the pipe instead."

I skipped over to where we put the testing pipe and retrieved it. Taylor lifted her arms up, exposing her sides, and nodded.

I gave a light swing to start with, the pipe clanging off her ribs.

"Harder!" she giggled.

I swung the pipe into her leg, using the momentum to move around and lay another into her back. With each swing I moved further around, Taylor giggling like a madman. Whether this was indicative of the armour's strength or my weak girly arms I didn't know. I gave one last swing and dropped the pipe, breathing heavily. I really needed to work on my cardio.

"Ow," groaned Taylor through another fit of giggles. "That'll be sore tomorrow."

Sore as opposed to heavy internal bleeding and broken bones was a win any day of the week.

"This is gonna be amazing when you get mine done and make the helmets," I wiped the sweat off my forehead and flicked it at her. "I'll smash yer fuckin' head in, I swear on me mum."

"Speaking of," said Taylor, rubbing at her armoured fists. "We still have to get the measurements for those."

I sat back down on the couch, something solid digging into my thigh, and immediately leapt back up again. I grimaced and picked the gun up, holding it out to Taylor.

"And put this back, you didn't make the armour to get shot. You made it to survive in a worst case scenario."

Taylor huffed and took the gun, but didn't say anything. The girl was a nightmare, honestly. Blessed with enormous power she may be, she was no Alexandria. No matter how hard she acted like she was bulletproof. She was going to get killed one day, and it would be my fault for not holding her back.

She bustled back over with the measuring tape and wrapped it around my head. For a moment, as she was fixing it in place, everything fuzzed. There was a high pitched whine, but it wasn't ringing in my ears, and there was information in my head that hadn't been there before. A memory of Taylor saying, "Hello?" as she fiddled with the measuring tape.

"What?" I said at the same moment Taylor said, "Huh."

"Did you just?!" my voice cracked, unable to articulate what complete and utter bullshit this was.

Taylor drew her hands back and stared at them for a moment before putting them back on my head. Everything fuzzed, the whine started up again and I had two memories of the same moment. One of me sitting there in stunned silence, which I intrinsically knew was the real one, and one of me saying, "Hello."

"So I guess I can modify memories now."

A high pitched stream of unintelligible gibberish spewed from my mouth. What sort of retarded, overpowered, combat scaling grab bag bullshit was this!? Tinker, thinker _and_ master powers centred on conflict and social manipulation? Of all the fucking… _Evil Overlord_ type bullshit powers! This was insane! What next, a cape who could turn into a regenerating super monster would singlehandedly fight off Leviathan? Oh let's just throw all sense and fucking sensibility out the window, four powers. _Four._

Oh god, if the Empire ever heard about this. If _anyone_ ever did…

"I don't think we should ever mention this to anyone," I said, standing up and putting my hands on her shoulders. "Ever."

Taylor nodded, ashen faced, obviously going through a similar thought process to me.

"Yeah," she said, swallowing heavily. "And from now on you should never ever stick one of those ghsost in me, or I _will_ take over the city."

That had some disturbing implications about how psycho my ghosts turned people. Maybe we should just quit while we were ahead and go join up with the Wards instead of accidentally ending taking over the world. I wasn't so edgy as to entertain that might even be a slightly good idea, I'd left that shit behind.

Except Taylor wouldn't join with me. I'd only known her for a few weeks but it was obvious, even to me, that she had serious problems with authority and wouldn't submit even if there was a chance she could go nuclear. All I had to do was get us through two years and we would join the Protectorate, though how that authority differed to the Ward's authority I had no idea. Two years.

I had two years to save the world.


	9. Doubling Down 2-1

"Stop fidgeting," Cassie nudged me surreptitiously, her voice issuing out of my helmet's speaker system. "Everything is built on first impressions."

I drew in a deep breath and squared my shoulders, my crimson cape flapping in the salty breeze as the ferry to the Protectorate's floating base sped across the water. I glanced over at her, she looked cool. Standing with practiced confidence, sunlight glinting off her cat themed helmet, ribbon like coat tails catching the wind.

The costumes themselves had turned out pretty good too. They weren't exactly like in the sketches, being quite obviously hand made by an amateur and were a little less close fitting to hide the armour, but their striking gold and red lines conjured exactly the look we were going for. They too were partially made out of carbon fabric, with calico making up the majority of the weave the carbon really only gave it colour.

This was it, three months of effort. Of tinkering and training, planning and preparing. Our debut appearance.

Butterflies didn't even come close to fucking describing it.

The ferry passed through the shimmering forcefield that encased the Protectorate base and gently slid up the ramp. The ferry operator moved to open the gate, his outline glinting in the wireframe representation my radar provided. If I wanted I could summon up a mini-map to track everything around me, but we had decided the Protectorate would probably not appreciate that sort of tech being switched on in their headquarters. In fact, I was going to have to turn it off altogether. A few taps on the touchscreen and the outline on everything vanished.

For now I had to access the interface for my helmet through my phone, something I was extremely glad I had built. It did everything I'd wanted it to and could only be activated for use in proximity of a special microchip embedded in the glove of our armour suits, or in our civilian guises one embedded in a ring.

As the gate opened I strode forward with confident, purposeful steps and saluted the ferry operator. As the social Thinker, I was the front man. The face of our team. And as such I had to be friendly and in control. I had to be the cape, not the person. My every action today had to lay the foundations of our image, we couldn't afford to pay for my mistakes.

The East North East Protectorate headquarters was a very impressive building. Made of a remodelled oil rig it sat out in the bay, a shiny white symbol of Heroism and Law.

We ascended the grey concrete steps outside, the big opaque glass doors sweeping open as we got close. The interior looked a lot like the PRT building, but with more turrets and cameras and a lot less people. A pair of PRT troopers stood just inside, they waited for us to walk up to them.

"Good morning," I said, my voice deeper, more mature, curtesy of the voice modulator in my helmet. "I'm Psychonaut, and this is Ghaster."

I flicked my wrist, retrieving a business card and holding it out to them. That little bit of sleight of hand had been surprisingly easy to learn.

"We represent Team Satisfaction as independent heroes, we called earlier to let you know we were coming."

The PRT troopers were not impressed, though they hid it well enough that someone without thinker powers would be hard pressed to read them. It was kind of annoying even though that was what we were going for at the moment.

"Of course," one of the troopers smiled. "Please step this way, a representative will be with you shortly."

"Is it possible for me to speak to Armsmaster, if only for a moment?" I asked as we were led away. "I have something important to give him regarding a Tinker's work."

"I'll put the request through," the trooper said, ushering us into a comfortable looking room just past the foyer. "If you'll excuse me?"

The trooper left, presumably to get back to his post guarding the door, leaving us alone.

"We should sit down," Cassie said through our comms. "I bet they're watching us right now."

We sank into the white leather chairs, they had looked hard backed but were surprisingly comfortable.

They were probably listening in on us too, it wouldn't be that hard for the Protectorate with all its tinkers to design a monitoring system that bypassed other tinkertech's soundproofing.

I shifted in my seat, readjusting my cape so I wasn't sitting on it quite so much. Cassie seemed to take my silence as a message because we sat quietly while we waited.

It was a short wait, only two or so minutes until the door slid open and Armsmaster walked in.

"I don't have long I'm afraid," he said with a roguish grin that belied how much he didn't want to be here. "I was told you have something for me?"

I glanced over at Cassie, tuning my power between her and Armsmaster. It was a testament to just how nice his smile was that she bought it hook, line and sinker. I stood up and flicked my other wrist, nearly fumbling the card trick this time.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Armsmaster," I held the business card out to him. "On behalf of Team Satisfaction I'd like to thank you for taking the time to see us personally."

"Of course," Armsmaster gave a fake little swagger as he took the card, his opinion of us plummeting as he skim read it. "I'm always happy to meet new heroes, especially if it involves a tinker."

Subtle. It really was. I reached behind my back and slipped my hand into the equipment pouch sewn into the material over my lower back, retrieving a small sheaf of paper held together by a paperclip. I hoped this went according to plan.

"A gift of goodwill," I handed it over. It wasn't like I was ever going to make what was on them, it was way too big and I needed to be at a power level higher than I could achieve in my normal day to day life.

Armsmaster accepted it without a word, carefully scanning the half-finished schematics for a space dreadnaught.

"This is some interesting work," he said finally. "I assume the creator is willing to work with us?"

"Of course," I said, stepping forward and holding out my hand. "Psychonaut, tinker."

He began to frown as he shook my hand, feeling the armour under my gloves grate against his gauntlets. He turned to look at Cassie, then back to me, taking in our amateurish outfits. All the obvious seam welds on our carbon polymer helmets.

"Oh," he said.

"Nothing gets past you, does it? This was partially a test to see how people reacted, the derision you felt was close to our desired effect. We want to remain unthreatening to the local villains until we're ready."

"Congratulations," he smiled, more genuinely this time. But not completely genuinely. "You had me thinking you were a thinker. But I have to ask, why go independent instead of joining the Wards? We always welcome new capes, tinkers especially."

Damn. I guess nothing really did get past him now that he was on his game. I was hoping the curvier frame of our armour and voice modulators would make him think we were older.

"We have plans to, eventually, join the Protectorate if our current organization proves untenable. Today was to introduce ourselves and to demonstrate that we are willing to play by the Protectorate's rules."

"It's a better plan than most," Armsmaster ruffled the papers charmingly, thinking we were idiots for not joining. "Just keep in mind that if you ever change your minds we're always open."

"We will," I paused. "And, uh, do you mind putting me down as a low level social thinker, just so it doesn't get out to the gangs another tinker is around?"

"You can mimic that?"

I tapped the faceplate of my helmet and Armsmaster frowned again, looking back at the schematics.

"Do you mind answering, if you know, what your specialisation is?" He crossed his arms. "Being able to mimic a thinker power and design a spacecraft with tinkertech is unusual, normally each of those would be its own thing."

"I don't actually know," I said. "At first I thought I was a universal tinker, but then I found out I can't make a vacuum cleaner or a clock and other things like that."

I thought it was perhaps a bit early to go around saying my speciality was _Total War!_

"Hmmm…" Armsmaster dragged out the sound, tapping his fingers against his armour thoughtfully. "Well, if you ever find out, please let me know. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a very busy schedule to get back to. Psychonaut, Ghaster," he shook our hands. "Thank you for being so upfront with us, I'll put the memo through about your powers."

"Thanks," I said as he took his leave.

"Phwoah," said Cassie through the comms. "He's so cool."

"Yeah," I switched over to the comms and glanced at the thread of her hero worship. Sickening. What kind of hell must she be enduring, must those without thinker powers be enduring, not knowing the truth behind a person's mask? "He is."

He was pretty cool though.

"Switch to speakers," I said as the representative waved goodbye to Armsmaster and entered the room. I hoped this conversation was going to be less stressful, I'd be needing some industrial strength cleaner to get all the sweat out of my suit.

"So!" The middle aged rep rubbed his hands together excitedly, "How can I help you?"

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea," I said as we crouched behind the chest high fence of a local primary school, obscured from view by the garden shrubbery.

"Yes," Cassie hissed, her mask stripping the last vestiges of her English accent from her voice. "Now be quiet and get the bomb ready."

I still wasn't sold, _and_ we'd had to skip school for this. I was starting to like school. Sure, I still didn't have any friends there but my grades were higher than they'd ever been and watching Emma's impotent anger over getting suspended for trying to prank me again was always a treat.

The babble of chatter began to swell up from the direction of the school building, my map helpfully telling me the exact location of the students. I gave Cassie the signal and hefted the bomb. I took a deep breath, moved into throwing position and let fly. Three months of pushups, pullups and weights propelled the canister through the air in a high arc.

There was a muffled thump and a shout of alarm.

"Go, go, go!" Cassie breathed, and we vaulted over the fence and burst through the shrubs.

We sprinted across the field towards the heavy plume of dark grey smoke issuing from the canister I had just thrown. It was a simple thing, anyone could make it if they had the right chemicals though it probably wouldn't be as good as mine. I palmed the lighter I had in my belt as we slipped into the smoke. I crouched down, glancing at Cassie. I could see her in my radars wireframe layout taking her stance. I flicked the lighter, the spark catching the smoke, and stood up; slipping the lighter down the front of my costume and crossing my arms.

 _Fwoosh!_

Fire consumed us in a rush of hot air as it ate the smoke, sending my cape into a mad dance.

A dot rapidly approached on my map, turning into a flying teenager in a red costume as the brief haze of smoke and flame drifted away.

Aegis, one of the Brockton Bay Wards.

Today it was our mission to join him, and the other Ward he had with him, on their PR mission to entertain the children of Brockton Bay. I thought the thing was a waste of time, but Cassie insisted. I also thought our entrance was a bit much, but again Cassie insisted. Sometimes I wasn't sure what she was trying to do with our image, it seemed like she was enamoured with the parody of moustache twirling villains.

"Identify yourself…" Aegis drifted in closer, dipping to hover a few inches off the ground in front of us. "Oh, are you Psychonaut and Ghaster?"

"We are," I said. Naturally, he was very confused about what we were doing. And in very polite opinions too. "And we're here to help."

I gestured at the children.

I could only surmise from my power that either Armsmaster or Director Piggot had told the Wards to be nice to us because there was an air of obligation towards us about him.

"Ah, well," he gave us a polite, if uncertain, smile. "It's always good to have local independents take an interest in the community. Come join Vista and I."

"Ok," said Cassie as ghosts began to spill out of her sleeves. Six or seven of them caught her as she leant back, bearing her aloft as though she were reclining on a throne. "Lead the way."

God I was jealous of that. She'd eat her smug fucking grin once I finally made those anti-grav boots, I'd make sure of it.

I was left to walk as Cassie and Aegis drifted through the air. It was her turn to do the talking today, without the high stakes of yesterday even someone without a thinker power could handle it, and her flashier power would have a greater impact.

It was lucky she could handle acting as a cape because she was pretty quiet usually, unless she was talking to me, though she tended to overdo it on the ham.

I switched over to comms, "They've been given orders to play nice, Aegis doesn't have much of an opinion on us yet but even he thinks our entrance was too much."

Cassie twitched, but didn't turn around or respond.

Maybe this would get her to tone things down a bit. _I_ knew she wasn't a nazi _now_ , but if we kept appearing in bursts of flame other people might start to get the wrong idea. Well, it would probably be fine so long as she didn't say the N word again, though in her defence I don't think she expected me to pull a gun out and have her shoot me.

"Ask him about the candy," I told her, my right hand going behind my back to my pouch, brushing up against two bags of assorted candies and my upgraded sonic pistol. We had both agreed that pretending to be a thinker was more of a guideline than an actual rule, subject to revision upon encountering danger.

"Tell me, Aegis," Cassie said imperiously with an insolent tilt of the head, both of which the cat mask luckily filtered out. "Can we give the children sweets?"

"Uhhhh…" Aegis scratched his chin jerkily. "Technically you can do whatever you like as long as it's legal but um, if you were a Ward you'd need permission first."

"Then we shall proceed as planned."

Aegis didn't like that, but he was going to have to deal with it. I began loosening the packets of candy in preparation.

We approached the crowd of grade schoolers who were all straining to get a better look from behind the teachers, who were in turn standing behind Vista.

In her cute green skirt and jacket it was jarring to remember that Vista, despite being twelve, had the most experience out of all of Brockton Bay's Wards and one of the strongest powers. A powerful Shaker, she could warp space like nobody's business.

"I confess myself… disappointed," Cassie intoned, ghosts swirling around her outstretched hand. "That you're not more excited! Psychonaut, do the thing!"

She body popped off her throne of ghosts and executed a ghost assisted front flip. Honestly, that girl. It was a good thing I'd gotten her to tone it down or else she'd be introducing us as The Dread Cape Psychonaut and Ghaster the Army of Darkness.

Bags in hand I flung my arms out, letting go of the open ends of the packets at the apex of my throw, sending colourfully wrapped candies showering over the children who immediately began scrabbling for them.

Aegis sighed. "So it turns out we have some surprise guests today, Ghaster and Psychonaut, some new independent heroes here to help us out today," his voice projecting impressively.

I hung back, letting Cassie deal with the kids. As per our plan I was to provide intel while she handled the majority of the interaction. Of course, she probably wouldn't need it today, what was I going to tell her that could help? Who little Timmy was friends with?

I clicked the button on the side of my phone, switching back to speakers, and walked over to Vista.

"Hey," I said, giving her a quick check with my power. Compared to Aegis she thought we were cool.

"Nice to meet you," Vista gave a professional looking nod, standing confident and straight. It looked rather at odds with her short stature and costume. I probed further with my power… poor Vista. That was a pretty strong desire for me to take her seriously she had going on there.

Time for a little more sleight of hand.

"A pleasure," I said, taking advantage of her looking up to hide my palming of the business card hidden in my gloves wrist as I extended my hand, palm facing slightly down. I managed to slip it into her grasp without her noticing as we shook hands, if my power was reading her right. "I look forward to working together as heroes."

Vista smiled, then looked down suddenly as she nearly dropped the card. She held it up, peering at it through her visor.

 _Thinks my team name is shit_

Thanks, Vista.

"Shall we join the others?" I asked, seriously starting to regret letting Cassie handle team image. Oh well, we'd only be laughing stocks for another two years until I was old enough to join the Protectorate.

"Sure."

We turned to see Cassie and Aegis zooming around over the kids as they leapt up, trying to tag them as they passed.

It was clear she really enjoyed this even as I found it dull, I just hoped I could convince her to step up our schedule so we could actually go out and fight crime.

It had been three months since we had teamed up and if we didn't go out and do something soon I was going to go crazy.


	10. Doubling Down 2-2

' _eyy bish come get suited up were gonna go fight a crime'_

Oh thank fuck, I never thought I'd be so happy to get one of Cassie's poorly written texts. I hadn't even brought it up yet. I figured I'd let her have her fun before rocking the boat and tipping us out into danger.

I scrambled to find my shoes, stumbling around the room trying to force my socks on. I didn't care what crime it was at half five in the afternoon, I was fucking there. I lurched out the door, nearly tripping down the stairs and hopped into the kitchen.

"Daaaaaad!" I yelled, finally getting my shoe on. "I'm gonna go hang out with Cassie!"

"Alright," he called back from wherever he was in the house. "Have fun!"

This had been one of Cassie's 'One Hundred and Eight Cape Strategies', of which she had divulged three. For the last couple of months we had taken turns leaving suddenly at random times to simulate rushing out on cape business, and then getting picked up by one of our parents a few hours later either at the others house or somewhere safe in town. We were working on pushing the times later and later, just in case.

Today would be the first time the stratagem would be fully employed. Our houses weren't actually all that far apart, only taking about ten minutes to jog, but today I wouldn't be going to her house. No, today I would be heading for The Doomfort.

I barrelled out the front door, leaping down the steps and setting off at a moderate pace in the direction I usually went. Such was the extent of the deception in case dad looked out the window, all I had to do was go around the block and I'd be invisible to his eyes.

My feet pounded the sidewalk as I rounded the block and started to head towards the docks, each step refined in technique. This was another thing Cassie and I had spent those months doing, other than pushups, since until I got around to building us the Catbus, or the Pussy Wagon as Cassie was so fond of calling it, we'd have to run or take Cassie's ghosts everywhere when we could which wasn't much faster than running.

Fifteen minutes later I was near our hideout, but lacking Cassie's inbuilt human detection system I had to make sure I wasn't followed the old fashioned way; skulking and waiting around corners for anyone following to slip up.

I slipped around the side of the rusted out warehouse and followed it around the corner where I flattened myself against the wall. From this vantage point I would see and hear if anyone was creeping up. I glanced around every few seconds, checking behind me, checking places where someone might be watching me from, but there was nothing. I eased my phone out of my pocket and turned it on, inputting the password and activating the number tracking program. A satellite generated map of my surroundings appeared on the screen and I dragged it around. At the very least, there was nobody nearby who had a mobile on them.

I waited a few more minutes before moving off, placing my steps carefully on the gravel and weeds. I skulked toward the shed, activating the security unlocking mechanism from my phone. I hoped making my phone the sole weak point for operating my tech wouldn't come back to bite me, it would be so easy for it to get broken or lost. I made a mental note to build a simple backup.

The lights flickered on as I pushed the doors open and slipped inside. I went immediately to where my helmet was charging and jammed it on, securing the fastenings under my jaw and switching it on. Oh blessed radar, if only I could wear this helmet at all hours of the day; it truly was great. I could even play music through it from my phone or listen in on the police scanners.

I hurriedly stripped off before Cassie could arrive, pulling on the simple bodystocking I wore to keep the harsher fabric of my armour from rubbing me raw. On next went the armour, I shook it out and slipped into it with some difficulty. Skinny as I was I'd made it to be at formfitting as possible and while it was flexible it wasn't very stretchy. Then I zipped it up, the slider moving up my side to my armpit before curving around the chestplate and up the side of my neck. The jumpsuit of my costume went on easily, even with the cape. Last was gloves and boots.

I arose, not as lame Taylor Hebert, but as Psychonaut. Glib thinker, deft of hand and brave of deed. A hero.

I swept my cape aflutter and heroically marched across the room, valiantly throwing myself down on the couch and fearlessly opening up PHO on my phone to deal with the scourge of people being wrong on the internet.

Some ten minutes later Cassie's signal pinged on my radar, making a beeline for my location. She burst into the shed with the confidence of someone who knew they weren't being followed and beamed at me sweatily, rubbing her hands together.

"It is time," she said, energy bubbling out of her despite her twenty minute run to get here.

"So who're we up against?" I slipped my phone into my pocket. "Thugs? That cult? Empire gangbangers?"

"Uber and Leet."

Yes, this was very acceptable. Trust Cassie's misplaced admiration for that pair to galvanise her into proper heroing action. I pushed myself up off the couch and moved over to my workbench so Cassie could get changed with some privacy.

"Details?"

"Dunno yet, but they posted on their site they're pulling off something big. No when or where, but we have to be ready for when they start streaming so we can get there before everyone else."

That was a legitimate concern, Uber and Leet's live streamed petty crimes tended to draw the ire of the police, the PRT and all the other local independent heroes. Hopefully New Wave wasn't out and about today, most of them were fast fliers and we couldn't compete with that with just Cassie's ghosts.

"Ok, gameplan," Cassie hopped into view, trying to put a boot on and zip up her over suit at the same time. "We don't try to beat them, we'll just get our asses kicked. We just have to stonewall them hard enough that the sitch gets too hot and they have to cut and run."

"If there's a chance to win I'm going to take the shot."

Cassie sighed and rolled her eyes, "if they slip up like that I guess they deserve it. We'll go with standard loadout, tinkertech only if you need it."

Standard loadout was one Sonic Pistol version 4, one all-purpose touchscreen Comm. System, a smoke grenade and a multi-tool pocket knife of my own design. I also had my sketchbook, to take advantage of any power surges I might get in the field.

"Alright," I said as we kitted up. "Armour check?"

Cassie nodded, her face inscrutable behind her cat mask. We lined up and she punched me as hard as she could in the face.

I rolled with the blow but I barely felt it, most of the helmet was shock absorbers and they were certainly doing their job today. My blood started to chill as my power tried to trigger but I fought it down, I didn't need it yet.

I lined my stance up and slugged her right under the eye, she staggered back and nodded. Now for the body armour, which involved taking turns kicking each other as hard as we could. As usual the armour took most of the force and dispersed what little it couldn't enough that we'd wake up tomorrow and not feel a thing.

Hopefully it would stand up to whatever someone like Uber or Leet could throw at us. They may be incompetent scumbags but their powers were good, underestimating the damage they could dish out would be a mistake.

We went through a quick routine of stretches and then it was time to go. We hustled out of the shed as I activated the lockdown procedure and Cassie prepared our ride.

I fell backwards as ghosts swarmed under me, catching me and bearing me aloft. I didn't much like travelling this way since at any second Cassie's concentration might fail and I'd get chucked to the ground, though I knew it was probably safer than driving in a car. Another thing I didn't like was their upper weight limit, which we'd almost reached. Not that we were fat, I was a stick figure and Cassie was short, but between us, the armour and our gear if we added another five or so kilograms we'd be out of a ride; which meant that we'd have to go very light on weaponry when I started pulling out the big guns.

I could see the appeal though, as we whizzed through the air on our dark thrones, because we looked absolutely amazing doing this. When we were doing our image testing we'd recorded footage to see if we looked weird or stupid while doing things with our powers, and while it did look odd for us to fly while seated it made up for it in imposing wow factor and impressive flappy capes. I'd been a little leery of the cape at first due to obvious reasons in fights, but those could be mitigated and whatever utility we lost we made up for in image.

The Triumverate, the three most powerful and famous heroes in the world, all wore capes. And therefore so should we.

Cassie directed us onto the boardwalk, zooming over the heads of the late afternoon shoppers, and took us further toward the centreline of the city. It wouldn't do to go too far north, as best I could remember Uber and Leet rarely if ever worked in Empire territory, instead preferring to harass the poorer parts of town down south.

"They're streaming!" Cassie shouted. "It looks like they're melting buildings downtown!"

We might even make it there first, downtown was a fair way across the city but we were already in pursuit at a pace faster than I could sprint and we wouldn't be slowing down. We flew over a busy street and up above the building line, making a straight line for downtown. I started building a charge, I knew for sure I'd need it.

My radar pinged a vehicle too big to be a car and too weirdly shaped to be a truck with two people moving around next to it.

Bingo.

"I think I see them!" I called through our comms. "A hundred meters on our left!"

The ghosts holding me up tightened their grip as we started a gentle curve towards the strange vehicle.

"Ok, plan time!" Cassie said as we started to slow and descend. "We'll go for a front flip entrance, and on the count of three shout, 'Stop right there, criminal scum!' Ok?"

"Sure."

We rounded the corner of the street, thick silver sludge leaking from the ruined buildings and covering big swathes of bitumen. A ten meter tall War of the Worlds tripod contraption manned by Leet strode smoothly away from us, casually turning a parked car into more of the silver sludge with some sort of green beam.

Down on the street Uber was trading blows with Velveteen, a popular local hero with a police rabbit theme.

From what I knew of her she was a Mover who could ignore certain types of damage, and had a very… _specific_ fanbase.

"Ready…" Cassie murmured as we got closer. I could feel the ghosts shift under me in preparation.

The ghosts on my back lurched forward as the ones under my legs jumped up, sending me in a graceful arc, guiding me through the motion. I bent my knees as I landed and straightened up, hearing the thump of Cassie landing next to me.

"One…"

I sucked in a deep breath, levelling an accusatory finger at Leet's tripod.

"Two…"

The dam of ice in my heart broke.

"Three…"

It was time.

" _Stop right there, criminal scum!"_


	11. Doubling Down 2-3

_Annoyed I barged in, annoyed I'm stealing her spotlight, doesn't know who I am_

Ok, I could work with this.

"A bold entrance, Imperial Guardsman!" Uber said, his voice like an action movie trailer voiceover's which really didn't fit his spangled silver and green costume. "But I'm afraid we'll have to resist arrest!"

Cassie let out an embarrassingly high pitched squeal, "then it's off to jail with you!"

What the fuck were they talking about? Imperial Guardsman?

Oh great, she was fangirling. This was some stupid video game thing. That fucking idiot, they were streaming this and now everyone would see a hero… _swooning_ over _Uber and Leet._ God fucking damn it, this was a fight!

I sighed, I'd just have to make the best of it.

"Velveteen," I said. "Thank god you're here-"

 _Thinks I'm being insincere_

"Because we've got a tough fight ahead of us until the PRT gets here-"

 _Thinks I'm being weak, thinks she doesn't need me here_

"So do you think you can try to keep up?"

 _Thinks I'm being a cocky little shit_

Well there was just no pleasing her, was there?

Velveteen laughed like I'd made a joke, "That's my line!" she smiled and struck a cutesy pose. "You'll have to introduce yourself after we've busted these baddies!"

I almost returned her smile before remembering I was wearing a full face helmet. I'd have to work in some low tech screen on the outside so I could give myself an expression.

"Of course. Do you mind stopping Leet from melting more buildings? Uber's reading blue which I'm pretty sure in this context means he's the distraction, I can hold him off by myself while you and Ghaster bring down that tripod."

I didn't know if it was true or not, that sludge could be anything from just sludge to blasting jelly. But that wasn't the important part.

Uber gave a great affected gasp of outrage, "Do you really think you have what it takes to throw down with _the_ Uber? Greatest man who ever lived? I'll have you six feet under before your little friends get ten paces!"

"Ghaster," I said, easing into a fighting stance. "Swarm and run."

 _Annoyed, wanted me to trash talk back_

The swirling cloud of ghosts behind Cassie shot out like bullets, slamming into Uber's face, clinging to his eyes and getting in the way of his hands. She jinkered right, cape tails flapping, sprinting past Uber and leaping over a puddle of silver gunk.

Velveteen gave a crisp salute to no one in particular and ran, overtaking Cassie within a second.

The ghosts lifted off of Uber and returned to Cassie's side, regrouping for a beat before launching at Leet.

Leet swung the mounted gun he was using to melt the sidewalk around, ghosts turning to dust as they were caught in its beam.

Fuck.

"Looks like you noobs bit off more than you could chew when you challenged us, but don't worry, we'll show you the Way!" Leet's magnified voice echoed through the street, joined by Uber's booming laugher.

Jesus fucking Christ.

"It won't be enough," I said coldly, taking a step toward Uber who was holding his arms in the air like he was appealing to a crowd. I glanced up and saw a glint of gold; the camera drone they used to film their escapades.

"Au contraire, all paths lead to victory my edgy little friend. Uber and Leet are the GOAT, we will rain pwnage on you and you will drown in it!"

My heart pounded in my ears as I edged closer, this wasn't going to be like sparring Cassie where we knew neither of us would actually get hurt, this was _finally_ the real deal. I clenched my fists, which felt like lumps of ice weighing my arms down, and made my move.

Uber went from standing casually to flicking out a jab before I could react, his fist smashed into the dead centre of my faceplate. I reeled backwards but managed to keep my feet.

"Nice helmet," Uber muttered, rolling his eyes. "I thought you said you could hold me off," he continued at his regular volume. "Since when did casual scum decide they were good enough to play on expert!?"

I raked a breath into frozen lungs.

 _Amused at me, annoyed with me for stalling him, using me to show off, wants to be done with me soon/annoyed at Cassie for attacking his friend, never heard of Cassie before today/thinks Velveteen would be cute if she wasn't a furry/worried about Leet, wants to help Leet, thinks Leet_ needs _his help-_

There it is.

"For all that you're his best friend, surely Leet can handle himself without you thinking he's pathetically helpless."

 _Thinks I'm a silly idiot_

"Go for the fuckin' throat why don't you," Uber sighed, drawing a big chrome revolver from a holster on his thigh. "Don't need another fuckin' Tattletale."

He took a step forward and turned, taking a blind swat at me and firing a blue pulse into Velveteen's back, knocking her over.

I leapt forward as his swat overstretched, skipping into a side kick. Uber's hand flashed down like lighting, catching my foot. He brought his hand up, violently tipping me over backwards. My helmet crunched as it hit the gravel, the shock dispersing harmlessly through the inertia gel.

I managed to bounce away as Uber took more pot-shots, forcing Velveteen to abort her rush and sending Cassie sprawling.

"Some advice," said Uber as he continued to provide suppressive fire on my allies. "Don't try that shit in a real fight, you'll end up getting gutted by Hookwolf or something. Nobody likes a smart mouth Thinker."

"Well aren't you remarkably well put together," I hissed, dragging myself to my feet.

"It comes with being the best at everything," Uber flashed me a cocky grin and shot me in the face.

There was a sickening crack and the reinforced plastic on my faceplate gave way to faint spider web fractures, completely ruining my radar's HUD. _That fucking bastard!_ A soothing icicle was throbbing in my temple, this was it, I could feel it. It was the most powerful I'd ever been. It was like the ice was pouring out of my brain and giving me strength.

As I hit the ground I curled up, bringing my head and knees to my chest, letting my momentum roll me back so I could spring into a standing position. I saw Uber jumping toward me, so I snapped off a left straight over his grasp.

His hands collided with me first, gripping my collar. He wrenched up, lifting me off my feet and holding me there. I thrashed, lashing out with my feet, but he shook me hard enough that I could get in anything more than a useless glancing blow.

"Smile for the camera," he whispered, giving me another vigorous shake.

He took a second to take a deep breath, and when he spoke it was in a voice twice as impressive sounding as before.

"And now you're about to find out what happens when people don't accept the love and peace of the Way into their hearts! For millennia Uber and Leet have travelled the universe as shining beacons of hope, bringing the Way we've come to meet you now we're sure we won't blow your minds! We come bearing a monument of this, a great effigy! You will bear witness to what happens here today, and you will tell of it later!"

"…End scene," Uber cracked his neck, producing a disgusting series of pops. "That went well."

What the _fuck_ was he talking about?

The ground rushed up to meet me as I was hurled into it. I gasped, the breath having been knocked from my lungs. No way, I wasn't gonna go out like this. I rolled over, propping myself up on my elbow, curling my wrist. I flicked a business card at Uber like a shuriken and he jerked to the side, letting it fly past his head.

I dragged myself up once more, flicked my other card, and charged.

Uber snatched the card out of the air with ease and checked my jumping kick with his knee in a motion that sent me careening off balance. He snickered as he read the card before tucking it away into his costume.

"Remember what I said about not mouthing off," Uber levelled his gun at me again. "You make a good punching bag, it'd be a shame if you died."

Bang!

Uber span around as part of the tripod Leet was manning suddenly exploded in a gout of flame, holding his gun in a very professional grip. He fired off a shot at Velveteen before swinging his gun up, tracking an electric blue blur.

"Oh shit," he said. "I'd better hoof it."

My hand inched toward my pouch as he started to sprint away, he was still in range. All I had to do was draw my sonic pistol and shoot him in the back, all it would cost me was my secrecy as a tinker and in return I would ensure Uber be sent to prison.

I clenched my fist, my lungs burning with frost, and the moment passed. He was out of range.

Was it worth it, Cassie?

I watched as Uber shot his way to the tripod, the blue blur leaping well over the top of him to avoid taking a hit. As he leapt to clamber up the leg Leet threw a shiny silver box out onto the street. It clattered along the road as it bounced, coming to a stop in the middle of a puddle of silver goo, beeping loudly.

There was a flash of light and Uber, Leet and the tripod vanished; as they usually did. There was, according to Cassie, a betting pool on their forum about when their teleporter would break and how long after that it would take for them to get locked up for good.

The blur resolved itself into Battery, one of the Protectorate capes stationed in Brockton Bay, who started speaking to Velveteen.

I clicked the button on the side of my phone, switching to the internal helmet comms.

"Fight's over, I guess. I suppose we should stick around for a bit just in case."

The speakers in my helmet crackled with feedback, garbling whatever Cassie's response was until I clicked the comms off. Fucking Uber, couldn't have shot me anywhere else could he? Now I was going to have to go in and replace the damaged parts.

I almost started to jog, but remembered how lame my awkward trot looked on camera. Instead I drew myself up to my full height and strode confidently towards my partner, putting as much of the furious ice into my step as I could, making sure my cape swirled majestically.

"Ghaster, how went your end of the fight?"

"Alright," she replied shakily, which meant behind the voice modulator she was a great deal worse than she sounded.

I didn't normally use my power on her unless it was part of power testing, but this seemed like an emergency. I needed to know how to act.

The feedback was what I usually got, I was her crazy, stick in the mud best friend. Only this time there was an undercurrent of jealous panic, though she wasn't jealous of _me_ exactly. It was more like… she was jealous of my power.

Oh.

Right.

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug and she started sobbing, returning the embrace. I stood there awkwardly, rubbing her shoulder until she stopped; which thankfully didn't take long.

"He nearly melted me Tay-Tay," she said softly, extricating herself from my hug. "Nearly melted me with his beam cannon, how weird is that?"

That _was_ quite a bit worse than being smacked around a bit through tough armour.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I should have gone after Leet and distracted him while you put Uber on top of a building."

Cassie shook her head, her glove bouncing uselessly off her mask as she tried to wipe her face.

"Nah, its fine. I was just surprised. Gotta get used to this stuff anyway."

The quaver had gone out of her voice and she was standing straighter. Part of me, the cold part spurred on by my power said 'yes, she absolutely had to and fast' while the other part wanted to keep her back until she could match my confidence in the face of battle.

Was this how Uber felt about Leet?

"Excuse me," called a polite female voice.

I looked over my shoulder and saw Battery walking towards us, picking her way around the goo puddles; which I realised were _moving_.

"We need to move out of the area in case Leets tinkertech proves dangerous," Battery motioned for us to follow her.

"So what exactly is this stuff?" I asked as we fell into step behind her.

"Nanites, we've found similar residue at some of their previous crime scenes."

Nanotechnology, now that was something I'd really like to get my hands on. I didn't know if I could make any, but I had the feeling that studying another tinker's tech would give me something, some new inspiration or something I could copy well enough to make for myself.

I chewed my lip, surely Armsmaster would have told his fellow heroes that I wasn't a thinker; as far as he knew at least. I'd told him to keep it on the down low, but if I were him I'd write it down somewhere.

"Would I be able to get my hands on a sample?"

Battery glanced at me out of the corner of her eye, "You'd have to ask Armsmaster when he gets here, but I doubt it."

I considered using my power to see if I could find an angle, but it was probably poor form to try manipulate one of the cities heroes. I guess I'd have to ask and hope Armsmaster was as nice as he seemed.

Battery led us out past where a bunch of PRT troopers were cordoning off the area with police tape and over to where Velveteen was giving a very enthusiastic recounting of the fight to an aggrieved looking PRT agent, his pen flying over a notepad as he tried to take it all down.

"Got a couple more for you, Jerry."

The PRT agent, assumedly Jerry, sent her a look bursting with poorly hidden gratefulness.

"Thank you very much, Ms. Velveteen, a pleasure working with you. As always," he smiled in a way that didn't even seem forced before turning to face us. "Psychonaut, Velveteen says you took on Uber away from the Tripod, do you mind giving us a statement?"

It was very easy to remember what had just happened, like the memories were frozen in place awaiting my perusal. My account didn't have very much useful information, save for the speculation that the nanite goo was turning into an effigy of some kind.

It was interesting hearing Cassie's side of the story. From the sound of it she hadn't given up even through the panic of losing half her ghosts, which I was definitely going to ask about once we were out of earshot, and managed to power through getting shot in the back and almost being melted. And that she did it all without her power providing cold reassurance was even more impressive.

Almost thankfully Velveteen had gone by the time we were finished, despite her earlier offer to introduce ourselves.

A sound everyone in Brockton Bay knew growled into existence, the deep purr of Armsmasters huge motorcycle grew from a faint echo to a comforting presence as he drew closer.

I should put the Catbus on the backburner and make us a Catbike. Fit a scaled down anti-grav accelerator in there and I wouldn't be so dependent on Cassie for quick deployment.

My power had started to wind down by the time Armsmaster had concluded his preliminary investigation, concluding that the goo was safe and merely being drawn to a beacon where it had begun taking shape. I finally found a gap where he wasn't talking to anyone and didn't seem busy.

"Excuse me, Armsmaster," I said as confidently as my waning power would let me. "Is it possible for me to get a sample of Leets constructor nanites for study?"

He looked down at me for a moment, "yes, if you join the Wards."

I took that as our cue to leave.


	12. Doubling Down 2-4

We walked slowly, a despondent trudge back through town to our Doomfort. Half of me wanted to work up a fit of terrible rage and storm through the city until I found Uber and Leet and wrung from them the victory denied to us.

The other half was just tired.

We'd suffered a humiliating defeat which had been livestreamed for all the internet to see, and over the past few months with my newfound internet access I had come to realise what this meant. We'd be laughingstocks, people would make some of Cassie's stupid 'memes' about us and even if we managed to win every single time from here on out they would never be wiped away.

I sighed, we were going to have to step it up a notch. And not just in how we fought, we needed better information, better plans and a better strategy.

"I think," I said softly, leaning closer to Cassie so the sparse early evening crowd couldn't hear. "We need to use my tinkertech more, at least claim we bought them or something. I could have had Uber at the end if we were using it."

"No," Cassie murmured. "It's not even that, it's my fault. I could've beaten Leet. It wouldn't have even been hard, I just…"

"Choked?"

"Yeah."

Someone snapped a photo of us with their smartphone as we passed and I waved at him out of reflex, just like we practiced. Maybe if we spent a little less time on how to act in public and a little more time running battle simulations we wouldn't be in this mess.

"Are they going to come back? Your ghosts? I saw them get hit by that beam."

Cassie hmmm'd. "Yeah, I blew that load early, just give me half an hour and I'll be good to go again."

Good grief.

"And another thing," my voice rose slightly. "What the fuck was that with you fangirling over Uber and Leet? You made us look stupid right from the start."

She didn't answer, her helmet turning away slightly.

"Between that and how poorly we fought no one is ever going to take us seriously."

"I wouldn't worry about that too much," Cassie muttered, helmet turning back around to face me. "Plenty of capes get their fuckups plastered all over the internet and come out on top. So long as we don't make a habit out of it it'll just be a funny story we tell about how bad we were on our first day."

"I hope you're right."

Cassie snorted. "You think Armsmaster never made any fuckups? Even Miss Militia accidentally shot that kid with her bean bag cannon that one time and everyone loves her. There's no way we'll get shit on for this for our entire career. A few weeks, tops, one or two persistent trolls who'll hate us forever." She shrugged, "People forget."

According to my power she wasn't lying, so she believed that at least. It just sounded so blasé. Surely people would take this more seriously and hold us to a higher standard, we were part of the force keeping them safe in this city. Admittedly I hadn't cared all that much before I got powers myself, heroes were just a really cool thing that was there like a sports team… but surely adults would pay more attention. Maybe it was one of those things that you had to know about when you got older, like taxes.

But it was still nice to hear her say it.

We continued our trek, making our way in a beeline for our base through the docks. We weren't that far now, we might even get back just in time for me to start tinkering before my charge really started to go.

"There's someone somewhere up ahead," Cassie said suddenly. "Reckon someone's skulking around near our base."

Fucking Uber smashing my radar. I got out my phone and brought up the tracker. Sure enough there was someone with a cell phone walking around a warehouse over, right in our path.

"Could just be a hobo," I whispered, before realising the person was so far away they'd only hear us if we shouted. "Or someone exploring."

"Proceed with caution, then?"

We crept forward, not sneaking but neither were we crashing ahead. The blip on my phone moved too, meandering around the area in such a way that we couldn't get to the Doomfort without the person seeing us.

Cassie peered around the edge of the big warehouse near our base for a few seconds before drawing her head back. She crossed her arms, a gloved finger tapping on her bicep.

"It's a cape," she said slowly. "Girl, probably our age, purple slim-fit costume, blonde."

I clicked my teeth together a few times, the name right on the tip of my thinker enhanced tongue.

"Tattletale," I said, piecing the information together with her description on various internet sources. "Probable thinker, probable villain. Haven't heard that she's really done anything though. Think we should take her in?"

Cassie shrugged, "she's skulking around our base, the second she tries something we should."

God I hoped she tried something. Noticing with glee that my power had ceased its thaw I nodded and took the lead.

I stepped out and strode towards her, I could feel the chill starting to settle back into my teeth. A shiver ran up my spine and I tuned my power between us.

 _Thinks I'll be an easy mark, wants to work me over for information_

Oh just you fucking _try it._

"Can we help you?" I called out as we approached.

Tattletale turned around to face us, hands on her hips and a smile on her face.

 **Knows** _I'm a Thinker_

She _knew_?

"Psychonaut, hi, how are you?" she grinned like we were old friends.

"Tattletale," I said lightly. "You're an alarming shade of puce, why're you skulking around in this part of town?"

Tattletale waved an airy hand, "I was in the neighbourhood and saw Uber and Leets web show, so I thought I'd come and say hello to the new up and coming heroes."

 **Knows** _I was holding back_

Again, she _knew?_ Either she had someone providing intel or this was confirmation she was a thinker of some kind.

"I don't buy it," I took another step forward. "Not with these readings. Why are you really here?"

 _Thinks I can assess relationship states, isn't intimidated by me at all, knows I could defeat her, thinks she can easily avoid that_

"I just want to talk," the corners of her mouth crept up in an increasingly smug smirk. "I was really impressed from what I saw on stream, like what do you have in your pouch? A gun? Nah, something cooler than that. You were going to have Uber down for the count."

Her eyes flicked over to Cassie.

"And you Ghaster, shame you messed up like that. And to Uber and Leet too, I guess you two are going to end up having the same dynamic, huh?"

That… wasn't entirely directed at Cassie. That was at me, she was implying I'd be the Uber to Cassie's Leet, being dragged down by her incompetence. There was something in her tone, like she knew what I'd been thinking.

I turned my head until Cassie was in sight.

 _Scared Tattletale is right, doesn't want to fight Tattletale_

I turned back to Tattletale.

 _Is going to use Cassie as the weak link_

Oh no you don't, you fucking bitch. I switched my power back between her and I, picking through her intentions. Somewhere in between her working us over for information and her smug fucking attitude was a kind of competitiveness. We were both thinkers and she wanted to be the best one.

"Oh fuck off with that crap, we don't need some petty crook thinking she's hot shit with her little thinker power coming in and telling us obvious shit anyone with half a brain could figure out."

 _Thinks I'm trying to wind her up, thinks I want a fight, confident her power is better than mine,_ **knows** _I'm trying to wind her up,_ **knows** _I'm hiding more than I pretend_

Her smile turned cruel, "I'd be careful if I were you, I've done worse to people for less. But I don't think I even need to lift a finger here, your absolute worthlessness as a person makes this a self-cleaning oven. Under all that bravado you're still a coward who'll never get what they really want, no matter _who_ you latch onto it'll always go wrong."

I clenched my teeth so hard they might crack, like so many shards of ice. That was way too specific. She knew, it wasn't just some lucky guess. She knew. I opened the connection between us again, channelling all the leftover power and rage I had from Uber into finding exactly what it was that would destroy this girl.

There was nothing I could find between us, just more of the same, but… I followed the thread of her being here for information. Why was that? It didn't really feel like she was here because she wanted to be here. I cast my net out, switching the tuning between her and Kaiser. Her and Skidmark. Her and Armsmaster. Nothing. She didn't like or respect any of them. Her and Gyspy Danger's Vagrant. Her and Coil. Her and C _oil!_

I opened my mouth to tell her that she'd never escape working for Coil, and I'd make sure of it if it was the last thing I did because it was nothing more than an idiot like her deserved, and my brain caught up with what my mouth was trying to run away with. This was the mother lode, I couldn't just spew it out the first chance I got no matter how much this little shit deserved it.

I needed to… needed to… _not_ escalate. No matter how much _I_ wanted to ruin her myself it would be so much more complete if I had someone else do it. Someone with actual power.

I clenched my fist and resisted the urge to run my mouth off, no matter how much my power told me it was a good idea. I needed to have a better idea, a better plan. This wouldn't be another Piggot.

I glanced back over at Cassie, seeing what should have been obvious before. If nothing else, that clinched it.

"Just leave," I said, striding over to Tattletale. "Please fuck off."

I tried to shoo her away, but she didn't move.

 _Thinks I know more than I'm letting on, thinks my power works off my anger or makes me angry, thinks I'm protecting Ghaster_

"You win, alright? Just go away, you said hello and humiliated us. That was what you wanted right?"

 _Thinks I'm playing dumb_

There was a moment where her green eyes seemed to penetrate straight through my cracked faceplate to meet my own.

"Fine," she graced us with her smuggest smirk yet. "Just so long as you remember to watch your back."

I watched, teeth clenched, as Tattletale strutted off like some kind of self-satisfied peacock.

I waited until I was sure she was well out of earshot before jogging back over to Cassie.

"We might be fucked," I handed her my phone. "Tag her number and follow it, then give me yours and your helmet. I need to make a call."

"What d'you mean?" Cassie handed her phone over and followed my jittery steps to our base.

"Her thinker ability is top notch, some kind of information analysis power. She was scoping us out for Coil."

I opened the shed and rushed inside, "we may need to get out of here. Give helmet now, I really need to make that call."

Cassie undid her helmet and for the first time I saw how bad she really was. There were tear tracks trailing down from her puffy red eyes and smearing her mascara, she looked absolutely miserable.

I wiped her face with my thumbs and took off my helmet, putting it on her head before strapping hers over my own. It didn't fit properly and I bit back a shudder at how gross and wet it was.

The reason I needed her helmet was because our phones only synced up with our respective helmets, even if the microchips in our rings activated both.

I flicked through her contact list and dialled the Protectorate HQ front desk.

I slipped the phone into my pocket as it rang, transmitting the sound to the helmets internal speakers, and started grabbing bits and pieces from my tinker junk pile.

"You've reached the ENE Protectorate Headquarters, how may I assist you?"

"Hello," I deposited the odds and ends onto my work bench. "This is Psychonaut of Team Satisfaction, is a hero currently on base or available for contact? I have information regarding a villain I'd like to pass on."

"One moment please." Keys clacked mutedly through the line as the receptionist presumably checked the files they had on us. "Yep, if you like I can put you through to Assault."

"Perfect, thank you."

I prised the case off a busted radio as easy listening music issued through the speakers. I tapped my screwdriver against the plastic, I needed something to fix the problem of not being able to get some of those nanites. Plans for a scanning device blossomed in my mind, something portable, something that could scan whatever I pointed it at or fed it.

"This is Assault speaking, Psychonaut still there?"

"Yes," I said.

"Nice to finally speak to you, Armsmaster showed us your card; love the name. Even if curiosity kills you, eh?" he chuckled.

"Satisfaction brings us back," I said automatically, my brain autocompleting the idiom. I glanced at Cassie, surely the name and cat theme was an accident, right? I needed up update our business cards to include that quote.

Assault snorted genially, "almost as good as Assault and Battery, that one! So what can I do you for? Reception said you had a lead."

"How much do you have on the villain Tattletale?"

Assault hmmed, "not much. She's pretty small-time. We think she's joined up with The Undersiders, but we don't have much confirmation."

So she'd joined a gang, huh? Interesting.

"Ok, good," I took a deep breath and waved some solder smoke away. "She was snooping around where we're based a few minutes ago, I was able to get a good read on her powers."

"Excellent," Assault sounded impressed. "We're a bit spotty on that beyond her being a Thinker."

"She is," I told him. "A high end one, she has some kind of knowing things power. Things she shouldn't. Things she couldn't. Kept trying to freak us into talking by spilling secrets."

"That would fit…" Assault muttered. "Explains some things, at least. I'll bring it up to the team when we report next."

"There's more," I said quickly. "She was there to get information on us for Coil. She works for him, like, directly for him. She was there to scope us out for some reason."

"That's… _concerning_ , how did you get this? It's not info villains usually just blurt out."

I paused, and carefully drew a line down where I was going to cut the plastic for the scanners casing. "My thinker power is pretty good too."

"Ok," said Assault. "Obviously I can't just take you at your word, but this is the sort of lead we follow up on anyway-"

"There's more," I interrupted, turning around to see if Cassie was still following Tattletale. "We're currently tracking her, if we're lucky she'll lead us straight to _her_ base. I also made her pretty mad, and you know how Coil has all those mercenaries? Do you think we should cut and run, leave our base behind just in case?"

"Slow down, slow down. Do you think you're going to be attacked?" Assault exclaimed.

"I dunno, are we?" I shot back. "I'm not being sarcastic or anything, but does this sound like a situation in which we'll be attacked? I'm sure Tattletale's going to tell him everything, and she really didn't like being called an idiot. Do villains usually attack independents?"

"If they think they can get away with it," Assault said carefully. "It doesn't happen all that often and we haven't had any claims Coil does that sort of thing, but if you feel like you're in danger we can give you some protection. Armsmaster said he offered you a place in the Wards, if you joined the villains wouldn't touch you. I know what it's like to go at it alone, all that freedom, using your power to escape danger by the seat of your pants. I was like that when I was younger, but it was a bad move. It won't be worth you getting hurt, I promise you that."

I wiggled the circuitry winding hodgepodge inside the poorly constructed casing of the scanner, it held. Everything looked to be in order. I plugged the quantum chemical battery into its appropriate slot and fitted the lid on, supergluing it in place.

"If it doesn't happen often then I don't think me calling Tattletale an idiot will make them go after us. But," I cut over him as he started to speak. "If anything like this happens again, I promise we'll accept at least some help. Like, the second we catch wind of Coil or the Undersiders near our base, we're outta here."

"Well, ok. But don't try to tough it out, you could get seriously hurt, or worse, dealing with the scum of this city," he sighed. "Are you still tracking her? Depending, we might be able to make an arrest if not today, then soon."

"Yeah," I said. "Just gimme a sec."

I pulled Cassie's helmet off, revelling in not rubbing my face in her snotty tears any more, and put it on the bench.

I walked over to where Cassie was sitting on the couch and held out my hand in a grabby motion. We traded devices, phone for scanner.

"Just go nuts with the thing," I pointed to the on/off switch. "Give it a test drive for me, scan everything you can think of. It should pick up just about everything, but I need to see if it needs recalibration."

She stared at me plaintively.

"We'll be fine," I told her. "After this we'll have to drop off the cape grid for a while, a few weeks or something, while Tattletale and Coil are dealt with."

She still didn't look happy.

 _Blames me for this, thinks I should have kept my mouth shut, thinks I should have known better than to antagonise a villain and put us in danger like this, doesn't like that I'm going against her list, doesn't like me babying her_

I frowned, "Right, well, I'm gonna see how far this goes and if we can get Tattletale arrested tonight and make us a thing to get all our junk out of here. We should, uh, call our parents and tell them we'll be late too."

I gave her an awkward smile and got up. I meandered back over to my work bench and jammed her gross helmet back on. Maybe I deserved to wear this disgusting helmet, as penance for my actions.

"I'm back," I said, cracking my knuckles.

"Ok," said Assault. "This can go one of a few ways…"

I started to tinker as he ran me through some official sounding protocol about what we could and couldn't do.

I hoped this went well, we might just recoup some of our lost cred.


	13. Doubling Down 2-5

The raid on the Undersiders had ended up going quite well. After I had tracked Tattletale to a location in the Docks, not all that far from where Cassie and I had set up, where she had met up with several others and stayed for a couple of hours the Protectorate started their investigation.

It was roughly there that my phone call with Assault ended, and a week later he called me back with the news that two arrests had been made. Tattletale and a cape called Regent had been taken into custody while their leader Grue, a previously small time freelance villain, had escaped with the semi notorious Hellhound and vanished into the night.

Assault thanking me and telling me that my conduct, worthy of a Protectorate hero, had everyone impressed was definitely good enough to wash the bad taste of getting curb stomped by Uber and Leet out of my mouth. It was the platinum cap on the amazing u-turn my life had taken. Thinking back to how things were at the start of the year and comparing them to how they were now really drove things home. My test scores had risen by a good ten points across the board, Emma was completely ignoring me and I was getting on better with dad.

The only problem was we were still in hiding from Coil, and my only friend blamed me for it. And rightly so. Despite my efforts it had ended up another Piggot situation, only this time with actual consequences. Potentially dangerous ones. Cassie was spooked, from both nearly being melted and subsequently having to scuttle the Doomfort and go into hiding because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I knew she'd eventually get over it and dive back into capery with me, but we'd hardly talked about that at all these past two weeks.

Which was why I was moping about in our new van, working on some small tinkering projects, listening to the police scanner and trying to think of a way to make it up to her.

I shifted against the van door, tapping away at the keys on my laptop. I'd finally gotten around to making a new one, with better parts and more care, and the thing was like a super computer. It was a bit chunky to accommodate all the space needed for processors and fans and such, but that hardly mattered. Not that I knew what to do with such a powerful computer.

What I was currently working on was a sort of personal assistant software agent that would routinely scour the internet for all instances of, say, the word 'Kaiser' and compile them into a database, then work through its pattern recognition software to promote the instances that were talking about the villain Kaiser; specifically any information about his actions, his powers and where he was seen. It would, hopefully, give us the edge in information. Something we had been sorely lacking.

It would also take notes, give the quickest routes to places, compile other information you ask it to search for and do other useful stuff. I hoped that one day I could write an actual AI to handle the task of personal assistant better than a human could, but that was years and a lot of fights away if I could achieve true AI at all.

I rubbed my eyes and picked up my phone, refreshing the PHO thread about Uber and Leets latest livestream. A lot of people were still calling us shit, but at least some were acting exactly like Cassie said they would. We'd posted in the thread at the start under a joint Team Satisfaction account and managed to not come off as the idiots the video painted us to be. Then Uber and Leet came back in with some surprisingly polite banter until Velveteen derailed the thread advertising commissions for her… _niche_ artwork.

The bulk of the discussion had been on what the silver goo had turned into; a giant steel statue of Uber and Leet that sat in the middle of the street and refused to be easily moved. At least that was the only one they could ever make.

I put my phone back down and shifted restlessly, this was all just worthless procrastination. Wasting time until I thought of how I could properly apologise to Cassie and get back to fighting crime. I wished we still had our base, then I could burn off some of this frustration on our punching bag but we'd left it behind so we could fit all the incriminating tinkertech in the van.

" _-suspected parahuman involvement, units are advised to wait for PRT clearance. Repeat, units are advised to wait for PRT clearance."_

I whipped my head around to stare at the radio I'd modified to pick up the police scanner waves. Shit, what had it said just before that? I tapped my forefinger rapidly against my mouth. There had been a villainous cape sighted, where… I think it was Fleet Street. That wasn't far from where I'd parked the van.

Oh hell yes, I was fucking there.

I slammed my laptop shut and reached over to throw it onto the passenger seat before scrabbling for my costume. I had to bend uncomfortably to get it on in the cramped van, I really needed to design a new suit of armour that was easier to put on. I filled my equipment pouch with my gear, which now included the scanner.

My power was weird around the scanner, like I couldn't properly understand it despite having made it. I knew I could sort of maintain it, but if it ever actually broke I expected I'd need to reach the level I'd been at when I made it. Though some other good had come of it, I was able to upgrade my radar to better distinguish between objects with the knowledge gained from studying the scanner.

I jammed my repaired helmet on and fastened it, tugged my cape free where it had caught on the seat and stumbled out the driver's side door when I was sure no one was looking.

The van was supposed to have been the basis for the Catbus, a busted old thing until I got my hands on it. Now it was a beast of a machine and boasted a very useful cloaking system. The outside could change, taking on any appearance you could think of. It could even be parked up against a wall and take on the exact appearance of its surroundings, effectively rendering it invisible. Cassie had wanted to call that feature the Chameleon Circuit, but that was stupid. Everyone knew chameleons changed colour based on how they were feeling, it was more of a cuttlefish circuit if anything.

It also wouldn't open or turn on unless you were wearing one of the chips that activated our phones, thank you tinkertech locking systems.

The van was currently parked in a fairly empty corner of Empire territory which bordered the Merchants. We moved it around every other day or so, changing its appearance and number plate so we couldn't be tracked. Today it bore the faded paintwork of a fictional pest removal service that had fallen on hard times.

I watched a few stray dots on my radar move away from my location as I fixed my gloves into place, making sure my updated business cards were still there. I rolled my shoulders and moved out.

On foot it took only seven minutes to get to Fleet Street according to my timer, but as I rounded the corner it seemed I'd been beaten to the punch. A regular police squad car was parked, lights flashing, halfway up the block with the officers standing around talking to someone.

The man they were speaking to noticed me as I approached, pointing me out. The cops tensed, hands creeping down to their side arms.

A flush of shock swept up my neck and I nearly miss-stepped, for some reason this was worse than getting shot in the face by Uber. Obviously they wouldn't know who I am, Psychonaut was only a month old; and I _was_ Psychonaut. Taylor would panic, but I wasn't her.

 _Suspicious of me, nervous_

They probably thought I was the villainous cape, which meant I didn't look heroic enough. Might be time for a cape costume upgrade.

"Good afternoon, officers," I called. "No need for alarm, I'm a hero!"

They glanced at each other and one stepped forward while the other retreated to the squad car.

"D'ya mind giving us your name there, lass?"

Suddenly I was really glad I hadn't gone with ' _The Dread Cape Psychonaut'._

"Psychonaut," I answered him. "Of Team Satisfaction."

There was a tense silence as we stood there, the cop smiling politely like his hand wasn't near his gun. Not that I'd die from getting shot, but he didn't know that. He also didn't know whether or not I could break necks with my mind, so I guess it was a fair trade.

"It checks out," the second cop said, pulling himself out of the squad car. "Psychonaut, indy hero. A Thinker."

The first cop relaxed, wiping at his forehead.

"Sorry about that," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "We had a call in sayin' a villain might be in the area. Bet that's why you're here, too."

"It is," I took a step forward and made an open, rolling gesture with my right hand, priming them for my card trick. "Though it looks like a false alarm."

I brought my hand down, following the same path I'd raised it in and flicked my wrist when it got to chest height, retrieving a business card. I was getting good at that trick, it was hard to catch even when I filmed myself. To the police officers it would hopefully look like I'd materialised it out of thin air.

In addition to our team name, affiliation, cape names and contact information the cards now bore the stylised silhouette of a cat and the phrase, ' _If care kills you we'll bring you back'_.

"I'm afraid my partner can't be here at the moment," I handed the card to the first cop who now looked annoyed. "But we're always willing to help out in a crisis."

"Too bad the PRT cleared it, eh?" he said, a small amount of venom creeping into his voice as he read the card. "No villains here."

I got the feeling he was implying I should fuck off, and indeed, my power confirmed he was annoyed by my being here. Probably didn't like me coming in and getting in the way of his job. I guess I could understand that, even though it made more sense for capes and cops to work together. Hmmm…

"Well, I'll let you get back to it," I saluted the officers and took my leave.

Could a parahuman even become a police officer? I didn't remember hearing if that had ever happened before. The Protectorate existed, but they were usually only called out to deal with parahuman criminals, only dealing with non-parahuman crime if they came across it while out on patrol or if it was something particularly big like all out gang warfare. I knew that some rogues had started a private investigation firm in New York, or that others were sometimes hired as security, but the closest capes got to cops were being independent heroes like Cassie and I who would go after any type of criminal. And that wasn't particularly close, we were basically vigilantes saved only by our Protectorate affiliation.

I'd have to check if there was a law against it.

But that would have to be later, I didn't feel like going back to the van. I may as well do a little patrol, we didn't do enough of that as it was. Partly because we both had school most of the time, and recently because walking around in public trying to be seen might have attracted some unwanted attention.

But that wouldn't matter here, I decided, there wasn't much around. A smattering of houses and businesses in a quiet part of town. It'd just be nice to take a walk.

I continued around the block, periodically checking my radar for anything that seemed suspicious. Nothing but a few stray people moving about inside the buildings.

That was good, I shouldn't be out looking for danger. Or at the very least doing so in a way Cassie would find out. I still didn't know what to do about the whole situation. I needed to somehow remove Coil's attention off of us, and there was no way he wasn't mad after we got some of his Undersiders arrested. And most importantly, I needed to make it up to Cassie for tearing the head off her dream cape career and shitting down its throat.

At least I'd told Assault about Tattletale's situation and asked him to apologise to her for me, the one thing I'd done all week that wasn't retarded.

A blip on my radar suddenly blipped harder than all the other blips around it, coming into view way up ahead of me. It didn't look like any of the other blips, it kind of looked like my van.

I kept walking, trying to act natural. Why would my van be here? I peered at the icon hovering an inch away from my face.

It _wasn't_ my van, it didn't have the unique signal, but it was _a_ van giving off a very similar ping. The only thing that made my van different from other vans was it was crammed full of tinkertech-

Oh fuck! _Squealer_? There weren't many other tinkers in the city, and her speciality was vehicles, so what was she doing so far out of Merchant territory? I doubted anyone from around here was buying crap drugs or cheap prostitutes.

I started moving faster, it looked like she only had one person with her. I could definitely take two crummy Merchants who couldn't make good tinkertech weaponry. Unless that was Skidmark or Mush in there with her, then I'd have to call in for some backup.

I neared where the vehicle was parked and crouched down, creeping around the back fence of a house that radiated the vibe of the elderly. The suspicious van was parked next door, in the driveway of a derelict house. I glanced around, it was obvious why they'd chosen here, we were on the literal city limits. All the buildings were opposite the, now that I had a closer look, newly made driveway the van was hiding in.

I commando crawled to the edge of the fence, scuffing my elbows on the dusty grass, and peeked around the edge for a split second before retreating.

It looked like an ordinary van, but then so did mine. I peeked out again and caught sight of the driver as he leaned out of the window to exhale cigarette smoke. He looked too ordinary to be a Merchant, too clean. He was just an average, clean shaven, brown haired white guy aged somewhere between twenty five and thirty five.

I counted in my head how long it usually took people on television to take another puff and stuck my head out again. Early, but I could see the ember lighting up and as he leant out I read as many connections off of him as I could. As far as I could tell he wasn't in a gang.

Maybe Armsmaster was in the back and this was a sting operation? He did say he had a special van way back when.

Yeah right, that was just wishful thinking. It was more likely to be two random guys, hired to drop off a shipment for Empire Eighty Eight and had no idea what was in the back.

I could handle that, no problem. I started building a charge, just in case, the feeling of restrained might welling up inside my chest.

I pushed myself up onto my knees, took a deep, steadying breath and drew my sonic pistol.

I took another deep breath and rolled my neck, loosening up my shoulders.

I took a third breath and stood up, pistol held out in front towards the men.

I stepped out from around the fence, approaching the van as silently as I could. The driver was looking the other way, chatting with whoever was in the passenger's seat, his hand dangling out the window occasionally flicking his cigarette to dislodge the ash.

I brought my gun up a little higher, but no so high that it be seen from inside the van.

"Excuse me sir, I-"

The man swung around like he'd been stung by a wasp, the equally mundane looking woman next to him jerked back and started scrabbling at her seatbelt. My power activated as the man's right hand jumped to his left side, grabbing for something beneath his jacket.

"Don't bother," I said coolly, raising my gun and pointing it at their heads. "I'm bulletproof, and trust me when I say you do _not_ want to be on the wrong side of this thing when I pull the trigger."

I'd probably fall down and cry if they shot me, but they didn't know that.

"What d'you want?" the man asked as the pair raised their hands, as was the proper action when confronted with a hold up.

"How rude of me," I gave a little shake of my head. "I'm here to requisition this van of tinkertech, no doubt headed to the Empire, and deliver both it and you two to the PRT. Sound good?"

"Shit," the woman muttered. "Boss!"

"Boss? Yeah sure, maybe I'll switch it up a bit and arrest them too."

A heavy footstep echoed mutedly from inside the back of the van and I moved around closer to the front, my gun now angled so that a tiny flick of my wrist would capture the third person in its beam. The door slammed open, boots dropping into view, and slammed shut again.

A short woman wearing a stylish red and yellow cross between a bomb disposal suit and an army greatcoat stalked into view. The red tinted lenses of her gas mask seemed to glare as she shouldered an impressive looking military issue grenade launcher, her twin bandoliers of yet more grenades clinked with every step.

I could hear her breath from here, a raspy mechanical hiss. One that only got worse when she spoke.

"What the fuck do you want?"

A memory stirred in my mind, something I'd seen on the television a while back.

"I remember you," I clicked and pointed at her. "You're the Cornell Bomber!"

* * *

 **Right, well, one hundred reviews. Thank you, everyone.**


	14. Doubling Down 2-6

"I did do that, yes," she said, nodding slowly. "Though I go by Manhattan Project now."

"Ostentatious," I replied, tuning my power between us. "So you _are_ a bomb tinker, then?"

A grating hissing noise issued out of Manhattan's gas mask.

"Nihil supernum," she gestured grandly with her free arm. "Better than all the rest. I can do shit that makes Dragon look like a scrub."

"Learned Latin in college, huh?" I muttered, trying to get a proper handle on the readings I was getting from her.

She was definitely new to the city, and had no connections to anyone I could think of. This meant she didn't know who I was, and while she was quite pleased I knew about her past bomb threats, she thought I was a rival villain and was considering something violent. She also thought I was a tinker, and she didn't like that one bit.

"But where are my manners?" I asked before she could answer. "I have the pleasure of being the first to greet you to this city. I'm Psychonaut, half of the independent hero duo Team Satisfaction. My partner is indisposed today, I'm afraid, but I'd be happy to answer any questions you have about Brockton Bay."

"You're a hero?" Manhattan hissed flatly. Her leather glove creaked slightly as her grip tightened on her grenade launcher. "I'm not buying it."

Shit. She thought I was making fun of her. Shit, damage control.

"I wear no mask. If you'll allow, I have a card-" I flicked my left wrist and produced a card. It was gonna be great when the PRT searched her pockets after they arrested her and found that. "If you'd like to take it?"

She didn't move.

"Oh," I said. "Well, I'll throw it over."

I'd gotten quite good at throwing playing cards when I was practicing my sleight of hand, and now with the ice steadily creeping up my arm I had no doubts I could do it right. I let it fly, and it flew true, bouncing off Manhattan's gas mask and falling into the bowl her collar made.

All at once the two in the car reacted at the same time Manhattan jerked back, levelling her grenade launcher at me. I squeezed the grip of my gun as hard as I could, activating the menacing glow and hum function.

The sound, a bit like a shrill electric engine with a steady bass undertone, stopped the action dead.

"There's no need to panic, I did just say I was throwing it to her," I spoke as confidently as it was possible to do when trapped between two people with handguns sitting in a van and having a grenade launcher pointed at you by someone who wanted to kill you for embarrassing her. "I'm sorry it got you in the face."

A chill that was as much power as well as fear ran up my spine as Manhattan slowly reached into her collar and read the card, bending it out of shape between clenched, trembling fingers.

I swallowed and tried to get my stiff fingers to unclench on the pistol grip. The foreboding hum slowly died and the red light dimmed.

A fraught silence followed as Manhattan stared at the card, her body language somewhere between rage and incredulity. Finally she relaxed and I realised she had just counted to ten to avoid blowing me and her henchmen up. With a cold finality she slowly put the card into a pocket and re-shouldered the grenade launcher.

I licked my dry lips: Phase one complete.

"Cute trick," she said, "what kind of tinker are you?"

As expected, she didn't want the heat for killing a hero so early in the game, so it was time to go with Plan A.

"Jack of all trades, more or less. Can't build a clock though, never tried to make a bomb before."

Helpfully, my power started supplying me with schematics for bombs.

"Figures," Manhattan managed to scoff despite having all inflection and tone filtered out of her voice by that freakish gas mask.

"Yeah," I shrugged at length, trying to distract from the burning pain that was starting up in my right shoulder from having that arm raised for so long. "So what are you doing in Brockton Bay anyway, we're not exactly close to New York."

"Yessss…" Manhattan hissed. "You will bear witness to what happens here today, and you will tell of it later. I make it no secret, I've been called here to hunt Nazi's. I will reduce the Empire to ashes and stand upon them as the new power in this rotten little shithole of a city, ruling it with my gang, The Bakudan."

I clicked my tongue, "hey, uh, Manhattan? You haven't actually hurt anyone though, have you? I mean, I know bomb threats are super illegal but you still don't have the police after you that hard, right? If you want to hunt Nazi's we should team up, if you go straight edge from now on and show the PRT all the good you can do I'm sure they'll cut you some slack. I think it'd be good."

And it'd mean I'd get my hands on that sweet, sweet bomb tech.

"You fucking idiot, when I said you're gonna tell of this later I meant that you also get to tell the story of getting to choose which of your limbs I turn to fucking glass!"

My breath caught in my throat as I sucked in great lungfulls of air. Ok, so Plan A hadn't worked. Good news was I wasn't sure if she was bluffing or not and hey, with a power like mine that meant she was just being indecisive and that was actually good in this situation.

I chuckled like she'd told a funny joke and mentally marked her down as being the Tinker version of Tattletale. I still wasn't worried, terrified out of my goddamn mind, but not worried. I mean, I still had Plan B.

I lowered my sonic pistol, "You know what, Manhattan? You're a real straight shooter, I like that. How about we make a little wager. You get your goons to gather up as much scrap as they can, we each make a bomb and the first one to die loses."

I could feel it, my power leaping up in a great juddering jolt. This was going perfectly.

"You're insane," she said.

"I don't feel insane."

"I am _the_ fucking bomb tinker. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me? You're fucking dead, bitch."

I turned to the two in the van who were both pointing their guns at me, faces warped into a perfect trifecta of fear, confusion and awe.

"Can you believe this chump?" I asked them, jabbing my thumb at Manhattan.

Manhattan screamed, a harsh discordant sound that ripped right through whatever confidence I had left, and kicked the side of the van hard enough to warp the metal.

"Get the fuck out of the van!" she shrieked, kicking it again. "And find all the shit you can! Then we're going to sit down and I'm going to make this cunt wish I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream was a fucking nursery rhyme."

I understood that reference, and it did nothing to make me feel better about this. Could I have made a mistake in challenging Manhattan Project to a bomb making contest? Only time would tell, but for now this satisfied the requirements for the completion of phase two.

The henchmen scrambled out of the van and ran into the abandoned looking house it was parked at. Manhattan followed them, shoving me with her shoulder as she walked past me. It was a strangely petty move coming from a gang leader, enough so that it reminded me of Sophia bumping me in school back when she was still in town.

I took a deep breath and let it out. Time to get this show on the road.

I followed Manhattan up the back steps and into the house. It was musty inside, with faded, peeling green wallpaper and sickly orange carpeting. Inside the living room Manhattan's henchmen were piling all the appliances they could find onto the moth eaten couch. So far this amounted to three standing lamps and a wind up clock.

I needed more than this, maybe some chemicals. I doubted even Manhattan could build a bomb with a spring, a light filament and whatever inert gas was inside the bulb.

"Go and search the house next door when you've stripped this place clean," Manhattan worked a grenade out of her bandoleers and tossed it to the man. "Use this if anyone's home."

God I hoped that was only knockout gas.

I crossed my arms for lack of things to do with them, I was becoming increasingly sure this wasn't my greatest idea. All the parts of my brain that weren't supplying bomb schematics, telling me Manhattan wanted to kill me if it was the last thing she ever did or proving the freezing surety that I was unbeatable were thinking unsettling things; like what would my father say?

I frowned and moved to the free seat on the couch, making sure I didn't sit on my cape and sprawling in a perfect facsimile of confidence upon it.

One of Cassie's Cape Rules, always act like you're in complete control of the situation unless you gain an advantage by not.

"What made you want to kill off the Nazis?" I asked, hefting my left ankle up on my other knee. "Not that anyone would really complain about that."

She threw me what seemed to be a disgusted glare.

"Lotta rich people hate them. So when they heard of me they naturally thought I was the only one who could actually ever get the job done, something that has never been done before."

That made sense. If I was a hair trigger narcissist who could only make bombs I'd probably accept money to blow up Nazis too.

As the two henchmen trooped into the room and unloaded armfuls of assorted electrical and household cleaning goods I made a mental note to check next door after I'd dismantled The Bakudan, and call an ambulance for whoever was living there.

"So!" I bounced to my feet and clapped my hands. "I was thinking a fifteen minute time limit, then we both stand in the middle of the room and trade at the same time so the bomb has to kill the other without any collateral to ourselves."

Manhattan hissed wheezingly, "Yeah that might be hard for you."

I reached into my pouch and felt around for my tinkertech multi-tool, bringing it out and flipping it like a butterfly knife, "Alright, someone start the timer."

I grabbed a blender and sat down next to the pile of goods, flipping it over I started unscrewing the base. I had no idea whether or not I could use it but I needed the time to figure out my next move, namely what sort of bomb I was going to make.

Everything I could think of was not a single target explosive, my bombs were brutal and built for annihilating vast swathes of the enemy. A sickly feeling arose in my gut as I truly realised for the first time that this was a mistake. I could feel my power escalate steadily, trying to compensate, to give me something to get out of this mess but the bombs just got bigger and more vicious, the anti-grav pack I'd wanted for so long was impractical and I had no idea where I would get the fuel source for that kind of laser.

I glanced at Manhattan, smoothly building a detonator, her relationship to me was clearer than ever but that did no good either; there was nothing I could use there. Nothing about her motives would help now, all of them would just serve to further lock us into this death game.

My mind was working faster and faster, but it could only spit out so many useless ideas at once.

I reached for an old deodorant can that had been swept up with the rest when the realisation hit me like a hammer. I was a fucking idiot. What the fuck was I doing playing into this little wager like I had some kind of moral imperative to be honourable?

All of my confidence swept back in like a tidal wave of frost, I didn't have to make a _bomb_ because I could make _other things_.

I whipped out my phone and started trawling through the data collected from my scanner.

"Oi!" Manhattan barked. "What're you doing with that?"

"I," I drawled. "Am checking some research data. Prepare to be amazed, you've never seen a bomb like this."

To my surprise, she nodded understandingly.

"I modelled some of my earlier work after Tesla's research into vibrations. Turn anything to mush they can. Solid concrete, wood, people, vehicles. I was originally going to go with one for this, but you deserve something more painful than just bleeding out via dismemberment."

"Kickass. Did you know you can study powers and incorporate your findings into your tech?" I asked, my hands now a blur of movement. A well-oiled machine of treachery. "I won't tell you what my partner's is, but you should look into that if you ever wake up from this."

"Nice," she replied, the lenses of her mask extending to magnify the delicate circuitry she was fiddling with. "Ties in nicely with my side project of getting control of Squealer. A Skidmark force direction power bomb would be flashy if nothing else."

I couldn't help but laugh. "I had that same idea about Squealer, though of course I was a sociopath at the time." I punctured the deodorant can and let the old fumes hiss out before sawing it in half and jamming the Jump-Field Battery down into the bottom as hard as I could.

The bulk of the emitter was going to be the most complex thing I had ever made by far, a real thing of beauty. And I was going to name it after Manhattan Project.

I was going to call it _The Dumbass._

I bound the Function Control circuit board to the Exotic Wave Emission Package with a scrap of aging scotch tape and merged the wiring to the battery connector with my Vibro-Solder, taking care not to shred the metal and screw the whole thing up.

I slid the taped together parts into the half an aerosol can, which just fit, and started to work on the ignition switch. At thirteen minutes in that bit would be easier than easy, mostly because I could just take it wholesale out of a desk lamp.

There was no time to build a lid so I just wound the scotch tape over the top to seal it up and around the sides to keep the switch from getting torn off as it dangled out awkwardly.

"Done yet?"

I looked up at Manhattan who was sitting like she'd been watching me work for a while.

I held up my ugly looking, yet incomparable in function 'bomb' and shrugged, "I'll make it pretty later."

She stood up and I followed suit, tucking my great creation under my armpit and picking my phone up off the ground.

"If you don't mind," I started typing out a text to Cassie. "I'm going to tell my partner where to pick up my corpse."

"Whatever," said Manhattan. "We'll be out of here in less than a minute anyway."

I hit send and stuffed it back into my pouch as we stepped to the center of the room, me on my own, Manhattan Project flanked by her two henchmen. I eyeballed the distance, we were all well within range, and flicked the switch.

I was dimly aware of four bodies hitting the floor.


	15. Doubling Down 2-7

"Holy shit!" I jerked around as I became properly aware again, suspended in mid-air. "How's that for phase three?"

"The fuck're you talking about?" Cassie lowered me to the ground, ghosts swarming back to hover around her shoulders. "Who else is in there? Why wasn't I allowed to get within five meters of you?"

I tilted my head like I was trying to clear water from my ears, it didn't _feel_ like I'd accidentally made myself permanently retarded. In fact, I felt good. My power was close to dying down, but I wouldn't need it here for much longer. Just a few more minutes to make the Manhattan problem go away and figure out how to apologise to Cassie.

"My plan," I said proudly. "You remember the Cornell Bomber? That's her in there, now calling herself Manhattan Project and leading a gang called The Bakudan."

"What is that, like, a Hiroshima Nagaski joke?" Cassie muttered.

"What?"

"Oh, well Bakudan is like the Japanese word for bombing, right? The Cornell Bomber looks like she could be Japanese, and you know how the Manhattan Project ended, yeah?" she shrugged. "Just kinda funny."

That wasn't funny.

I shook my head in dismay, "and the reason you couldn't get any closer was because goaded her into a bomb making contest but faked her out. I built a Retardation Emitter, based on the readings I got from your ghosts actually, and it's still on in there keeping her out."

From inside the room I could hear one of them groaning faintly and suddenly became aware that I had drooled all inside my helmet.

"Why?"

"Well I wasn't going to take her alive with a bomb, was I?"

"No," Cassie shook her head. "I meant why'd you challenge her in the first place?"

"I knew I could take her, oh and speaking of you need to levitate her over here right now. I need to disarm her, and see if you can get her grenade launcher, she would have dropped it."

Cassie took an annoyingly long time to do as I said, but after she took her time staring at me like I had something on my face she eventually sent her ghosts in to fetch Manhattan.

It was pleasing, to see my enemy strung up before me completely defeated and held within my inescapable zone of Tinkertech induced retardation. I held what used to be her grenade launcher in one hand and watched as Cassie's ghosts removed her bandoleers and draped them over my shoulders like a victory shroud. Shame I couldn't have her gasmask too, but there were rules against that.

With the hand not holding my new grenade launcher I gripped my scanner, waving it over Manhattan to sniff out anything else she might be hiding on her person that could do us harm.

"Take off her left boot."

Little shadowy hands prised off the boot and removed the sock. Manhattan had two toe rings that had pinged as Tinkertech, which were soon deposited into my waiting hand.

"Oh that's clever," I said, giving them another run over with the scanner. "These are how she sets off her bombs I bet. She's probably got a targeting system somewhere hidden to make it look like she can explode them with her mind, I'm stealing that."

"Are we done? She's disarmed?"

No," I handed Cassie the scanner and put my grenade launcher down at my feet. I inched forward, hands outstretched, until I could feel my emitter start to impede my brain function.

I stepped back a bit, "bring her closer, I need to rewrite her memories."

"Why?" Cassie let Manhattan remain where she was, supported by ghosts and making a soft 'durrrr' sound. "I thought you weren't going to use that, like, ever?"

"Never said that," I motioned for her to bring Manhattan closer. "And I really need to here. She's completely insane. If I don't change her mind she'll break out of prison and the first thing she'll do is murder me. I'm not joking at all."

There was a short pause before Cassie floated her close enough that I could rest my hands over her head. I could feel the strings of her memory line out before me like film reels. I couldn't read them, but I could change them and with my power as high as it was now there was no way she could resist.

I blanket wiped the last forty five minutes and slowly began constructing our confrontation in a way more suitable to me. If I did this right all the things I did to incite rage and embarrassment would be replaced with actions that inspired respect and familiarity.

Instead of being annoyed at me holding up her henchmen, she would admire my audacity. Instead of my business card hitting her in the face, she would catch it in mid-air. My winding her up would be replaced with a conversation that had no other choice but to end in competition, with a bomb that would merely be painful instead of fatal. When I apologised just before I cheated, she would call me a sneaky bitch without malice. And then, nothing. Until she got out of the emitter's field, that is.

I knew I could go further, try to forcibly turn her to our side, but that was the sort of villainous act that would get me in thrown in the birdcage if it ever got out. Something similar had happened recently with a pop star who used her powers to mind control her boyfriend into maiming himself. She was in a lot of trouble, and even changing Manhattans memories slightly so she wouldn't want to kill me was skirting the line.

"Ok," I felt the re-write take. Back when I had tested this on Cassie I could feel it failing. "Bring me the other two, I need to make their memories consistent."

The henchmen were brainwashed smoothly, viewing the same false memories I had given Manhattan Project from a different perspective.

Soon all three of The Bakudan were laid comfortably on the floor, looted for anything of use they had on them and full of memories that weren't real. This was good, an arrest like this would completely wipe away any lingering doubts stemming from our loss to Uber and Leet. We'd finally get the recognition we deserved.

"Are we done with them?" Cassie turned to me, arms crossed. "Is anyone else going to be here?"

"Nope," I trilled. "Phase four of my four step plan is complete, all we need to do is call it in. And I've just now realised how I'm going to apologise for getting Coil on our backs."

"Good," Cassie started to unclip her helmet. "Because we need to have a little talk."

I turned around to fully face her, "about what?"

She threw her helmet at my head, it bounced harmlessly off my faceplate and onto the floor.

"About what the fuck you thought you were doing, Tay-Tay!" She screamed. "What the fuck were you thinking? Why were you off on your own? Why did you challenge the god damn fucking Cornell Bomber to a bomb making contest? Her power is bombs!"

"I knew I could win-"

No!" Cassie punched me in the chest. I flinched, it didn't hurt at all but I hadn't seen it coming. "No, no, no, no!" she punctuated each word with another punch. "You didn't! You never do! You're so fucking lucky she even bothered to go along with your plan, what if she had her guys shoot you the second you had your guard down? You knew she was a psychopath. What if she just decided to kill you? Or worse?"

I pulled back, I'd never seen her so angry before, or so upset. Not even when Leet nearly melted her.

"That's…" I tuned my power between us and held my hands up placatingly. "Ok, so I know you think I'm crazy and that if you don't keep holding me back I'll go out and get myself killed, and if that ever happened it would be all your fault because you just didn't try hard enough to save me and you'd have to spend the rest of your life blaming yourself for it, but…"

"Oh but _what_?" Cassie spat, tears welling up in her eyes.

I didn't say anything. She was right, I could feel it. Most of what my relationship sense was was cold hard information, but it did have an empathy aspect. Usually it let me better worm my way into what really bothered people, but at the moment?

All it did was showcase how much of an inconsiderate fucktard I was.

"No," I hung my head. "You're right. Can I use the same apology strategy I was going to use for the Coil fuckup?"

"What were you going to do?"

"Ask."

Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose, "you should feel ashamed you needed souped up thinker powers to realise that."

"Well, think about it. For now we need to put some stuff in the van. I'm certain Manhattan has a shitload of Tinkertech bombs around the back we need to confiscate, so if you drive it round back I'll check for traps."

Cassie's jaw clenched as she gave a long suffering sigh but she knelt down to pick up her helmet and put it back on.

"I did learn my lesson about getting into danger without backup," I protested to her retreating back. "It's just that we've got more stuff to do today."

I followed her out the front door, "I'm not ignoring what you said or anything," I continued as she got into the van, now sporting a glossy black finish with our logo and name emblazoned on the side in hot pink.

She turned the key in the ignition, reversed out of the driveway and started to drive around the back.

I stood there for a second, eyed the few people who had stuck their necks out their front doors to see if anything interesting was going on, and walked back inside.

"It's just…" Cassie's voice suddenly started out of the helmet speakers. "What's your problem?"

I clicked the button on my phone as I navigated through the house to the back door, "my problem?"

"Ever since we met, it's like… you've had this, like, drive to find danger and jump into it; it's not normal. You wanted to start going out in the middle of the night to fight gangsters before we even had armour, I get that the Coil thing was an honest mistake but this time you'd have had to have been out of your mind. What on earth possessed you to challenge a bomb tinker on her home turf? Do you like risking your life?"

"It's just the right thing to do," I explained as I made my way out to where Manhattan's van was. "I have responsibilities now that I have powers."

Cassie sighed.

"You're fifteen, you're not responsible for shit. I remember being fifteen, I was a fucking moron. What makes you think you have to be so self-destructive?"

"I'm _not_ self-destructive. I know exactly how much I can handle, and I know this is what it takes to be a hero," I ran the scanner over as much of Manhattan's van as I could. If there were traps I couldn't detect them. In fact, it wasn't even locked.

I rummaged around the driver's seat until I found the unlocking system for the back and flicked it.

"Ok, so I know we've never talked about it and it's a huge faux pas to even ask, but… did your trigger event… what was it?"

I opened the back of Manhattan's van. Along one side were four cardboard boxes, neatly sealed, and along the other was two crates and an expensive looking toolkit. Judging by a preliminary scanning the boxes were packed with her Tinkertech bombs, the crates full of bomb making supplies and the tools expensive.

The last of my charge drained away, without it I felt clammy and vulnerable.

"Would you be surprised if I said I haven't had friends for years?" Cassie broke the silence. "I used to be a stupid piece of shit. You know how sometimes I say stuff what's offensive?"

I sat on the back edge of the van, letting my legs dangle. "Five minutes ago you laughed at the atomic bombing of Japan."

"Yeah, and before I would have also said that two bombs wasn't enough and if anyone was still around to listen to me I would have beat the dead horse until there was nothing left and then tried to start a conversation about anime. I would have thought that was a funny joke and I wouldn't have understood why no one else was laughing. I was the Pope of autismo, without any sort of self-awareness. So after months and months of crying myself to sleep because I had no friends and everyone at school just heaped shit on me for being such a spastic I finally had the epiphany, and the realisation of how pathetic I was and it was all my fault made me trigger. That was about… seven or eight months ago. Six-ish before we met."

I watched our van as Cassie drove it along the grass towards me. I didn't know what to say.

"Well," Cassie said as she pulled up next to Manhattan's van. "That's my backstory anyway."

I sighed, wishing I could rub my face though this stupid helmet. I was reasonably sure she would stab me in the back when I told her, especially after she'd just shared hers.

"Thing is, if I tell you, you can't ever tell anyone else. Not just about me, but because you'll expose the identity of a Ward."

"Fuckin' hell, alright. I promise."

"Ok, so back before I started highschool I had this best friend," I said as Cassie joined me in sitting on the back of the other van. "And then when we went back to school after summer break she got this new friend who hated me for some reason, and for some reason my friend turned on me. She'd always been really popular, so with all that behind her she started the most fucking vicious bullying campaign I'd ever heard of. Up until a few weeks before we met it was just her wearing me down, others tripping me in the halls, pouring juice all over me, tearing up all my school books and just constant insults, insults, insults. It got really bad by the end and they put me in the hospital, you can probably find it in the newspapers if you look but they locked me inside this locker they'd filled with rotting tampons and dog shit; which is when I triggered."

"Jesus, if that happened to me I'd have probably killed myself. Or them."

I sighed. She'd _just_ gotten through explaining how she used to run her mouth with stupid shit.

"So who was the ward?"

"The new friend she got, Sophia Hess, the one who shoved me in the locker was Shadow Stalker; which is why she was allowed to get away with all of that," I scoffed bitterly. "Funny thing is, when I found that out after the fact it took me an hour using my powers to leverage getting her moved across the country, which stopped the bullying almost instantly."

"Fuck me," Cassie put her arm around my shoulders. "Is that why you didn't want to join the Wards?"

"Maybe," I said, hopping off the edge of the van. "But it was like 99% the schools fault. I don't think the Protectorate and the PRT had any idea. Start sliding those boxes at me, sooner we get them packed up the sooner I can start making a jammer so someone doesn't track them or blow them remotely."

"Fine," Cassie heaved herself to her feet. "But as your apology you wanted me to choose? You're going to hand them over to the Protectorate."

"But they're mine!"

"They're dangerous. _And_ you're going to hand over that emitter you made today until I decide you can have it back."

"Fine," I bit out. "But I'm keeping the grenade launcher. And the bandoleers. And her tools"

"Fine," Cassie gingerly slid a cardboard box over to me like it was full of bombs built by a madwoman with a hair trigger.

It didn't take long to cram the boxes and crates into our already crowded van, only a few minutes to cobble together a signal jammer from all the bits and pieces of half made junk and soon we were heading back inside, the call made to the PRT.

Luckily no one had been home next door.

We were standing in silence, leaning against the doorframe to the living room and contemplating the unfairness of having to give away my hard earned Tinkertech bombs, or at least that was what I was thinking about, when a high pitched beep sounded from somewhere near Manhattan Project.

I moved without thinking, tackling Cassie to the ground as a shockwave blasted the glass out of the windows. I struggled to get to my feet, stumbling on my cape which came off and pooled on the floor as it was supposed to when someone was trying to tear it off, and dragged Cassie up off the floor.

I leapt around into the living room to see Manhattan harrying her henchman out of the door on the other side. We gave chase, Cassie's ghosts taking down the female henchman, scrambling to catch up. I heard the back door slammed open and rounded the final corner to see a small silver egg bounce into the wall next to me.

I turned, took two steps, and crashed into Cassie as Manhattan's final bomb exploded.

Ice swept over us. Four inches thick, covering the walls, the ceiling, trapping us in glistening crystal.

I struggled unsuccessfully, the ice groaned but didn't crack.

"That sneaky bitch! Where was she even hiding that? She must have tied it to something, swallowed it, and barfed it back up."

"Or had it up her vag," Cassie groaned.

I didn't dignify that with a response, partly because it was gross and partly because it was a plausible alternative.

"Can you bust us out with your ghosts?" I struggled some more, but it may as well have been against solid concrete for all the good it did.

"Maybe, most of them are holding down the other guy."

The cold was starting to bite through my armour.

"I can't believe she cheated," I said through chattering teeth. "She built a double bomb!"

"So you're both cheats, what's new? Fuck!" Cassie swore. "Unless you want me to take some ghosts off him back there, I can't get any out of me. Fuckin' ice's too thick."

"PRT can't be long, right?" I gave my best attempt at thrashing for a few seconds before giving up again.

Thankfully they weren't, but the sun had already set before they were satisfied enough to let us leave after writing up the after action reports and asking over and over if we had any symptoms of hypothermia.

Our van, now disguised as a more mundane civilian transport, lurched as Cassie drove over a pot hole.

"All in all," I stretched in my seat and curled up again, trying to keep some warmth in my aching limbs. "It didn't go that bad, we even made one arrest."

"I guess, you still have to turn in those bombs by the way."

I fiddled with the disguise controls for the van, punching in the settings that would slowly turn the exterior into that of an entirely different van again in a double layer of paranoid deception, "I'll do it later."

Cassie took a limp wristed swipe at my head, "just get it done."

We drove in amicable silence all the way to the other end of town, to some deserted spot near the trainyards. This way, if the bombs ever did go off before I handed them over, at least no one would get caught in the blast.

"Chuck your helmet on real quick, there's someone nearby," Cassie said.

I looked over at her as she leant over to get a better look out her window, a ghost floating near her head.

I bent down, picked my helmet up from where it was lying near my feet and put it on. It took me a second to understand what I was seeing.

"Jesus Christ, they're on the fucking roof! Swarm 'em!" I kicked my door open and dived outside, rolling to disperse the impact.

"No, no! Wait, it's just me!"

"No!" screamed Cassie as a wave of dark shapes buffeted the man on the roof. "I'm me!"

The van lurched as he jumped at least five meters up and over the bonnet, landing with inhuman grace. I breathed a sigh of relief, I recognised him from a press shot after he'd helped save someone from a burning building.

He was Nightwire, the sort of vigilante cape who'd been in the game for years and garnered quite the resume of feats.

He was taller than I expected, his solid black clothes slimming his form into something lanky. He'd managed to attach some sort of form fitting black fabric to a moulded plastic eye-mask, covering his entire face and leaving his dangerously windswept blond hair free.

"You two need to relax," he raised his hands placatingly. "New guys are always jumpy, but some villains take exception to that."

"Sorry," said Cassie, who I noticed had gotten her helmet on in the scuffle.

He shrugged.

"It's cool, I do shit like that a lot to new heroes. Usually they just scream and then we have a good laugh, but hey," he shrugged again. "If I got hurt it'd be my fault."

"How long were you on the roof?" Cassie stepped forward, her ghosts diving back into her. "We never even noticed."

"Ages," Nightwire gestured vaguely. "Just before your van changed colour the first time. I was going to introduce myself earlier but you started talking about Tinkertech bombs."

"I legally own those," I cut in. "You can't prove I don't."

Nightwire seemed to smile beneath his mask, "Yeah I've looted tons of shit over the years, but that sort of ties into why I wanted to meet you. You took down the Cornell Bomber, right?"

"She tricked us and got away," I clicked my tongue. "We were this fucking close."

"Bummer," he crossed his arms. "Ah, well, let me officially greet you into the club of Brockton Indy Heroes anyway."

"Thank you, Nightwire," Cassie said in her best attempt at professionalism. "Psychonaut, could you come here for a moment?"

"Of course," I said as though I had any idea about what she wanted, and strode over to her. "Excuse us a moment, please."

"I just had a brilliant idea," she said through the comms. "This is a priceless opportunity, we need to get him to mentor us. That way you get to fight crime without trying to get yourself killed, and I get to fight crime without getting killed."

I clicked over as well, "sure, but how."

"Pretend we have a tinker backer and make him some Tinkertech armour and weapons, that's easily enough. Everyone likes Tinkertech."

"Yeah, I guess I could make him some stuff. Might be good advertisement for when I start trying to make real sales," I glanced at him, tuning my power between us to ascertain his trustworthiness. "Aw fuck, he can hear us!"

"Did the ice bomb wreck the soundproofing?" Cassie rubbed the heel of her glove on her masks forehead. "Shit."

"Sorry," said Nightwire, not sounding sorry in the least. "It's not broken, I just have super hearing. So what kind of Tinkertech?"

I had no choice but to go for it. In for a penny in for a pound.

"Nightwire," I asked. "How would you like to be bulletproof?"


	16. Doubling Down 2-8 Interlude Cassie

"It's such horseshit," I flipped through the CD's in the bargain bin, going through a shiny new set that shouldn't have been there. I was a big fan of the artist, but there was no point in spending tree fiddy on music I could just download.

"What is?"

"Canary getting Birdcaged."

"Oh," said Taylor. "Yeah?"

Poor naïve, stupid Taylor. Couldn't she see? Wasn't it plain as day the second you looked at it?

"Duh, this is some of the most blatant anti-Master propaganda I've ever seen," I lowered my voice. "And considering what we do I thought you'd be a bit more worried."

What Canary had done was accidentally make her ex-boyfriend rip his own knob off and jam it up his arse by saying the wrong thing. What we could do was permanently re-write memories and temporarily overwrite people's personalities into moderately controllable sociopaths, one misstep and we could end up in the exact same position.

And I for one did not want to end up in the fucking Birdcage. They didn't even send regular Parahuman criminals there, it was reserved for the most dangerous, criminally insane motherfuckers on the planet. The sort of freaks who would try to take over the country by killing the president or threaten to knock the moon out of orbit if you didn't pay them, and Canary was nothing like that at all.

And to be quite honest, I'd probably last three hours in regular prison before I got traded for cigarettes.

"All we have to do take care not to have that happen," Taylor shrugged, idly leaning against the bin of CD's.

I abandoned the CD's and moved on to another stall. It was always strange hearing her say shit like that so confidently, like she didn't realise she was precisely the type of person to get herself into a mess where she would do exactly the opposite.

"What d'you reckon?" I asked, pointing at a pair of earrings shaped like a spikey crescent moon with a nail driven through it. Earrings in this style were getting pretty effay at Immaculata at the moment, and of course no one thought it was funny how faux edgy they were. They were the kind of thing I'd have worn when I was seven levels deep into my post-irony appreciation phase.

Taylor leant in closer, peering through her glasses. "Nah, I'm pretty sure my dad said something about these earrings a while back. A guy who works for him joined a cult and had to start wearing them."

"Right," I scoffed, trundling to the next stall laden with fine leather jackets. "You buy your cult-shit at a market stall and just turn up the next day with your goat slaughtering knife."

"Goat slaughtering knife?"

"I'm assuming this cult is Satanic."

"Not Masonic?"

I shrugged, "I figure Satan is more likely to sell jewellery. Anyway, yea or nay?"

"Nah," Taylor gingerly lifted the sleeve of one of the jackets.

"At least try it on," I urged, taking it off the rack. I was going to fix her frumpy fashion style if it was the last thing I did, because chances were it would probably end up ranking somewhere near the bottom of my to-do list when I forgot about it in the next week. But this was Lords Market, the fancy market, if we couldn't find her something on our way to the new base we hadn't tried hard enough.

Taylor shrugged it on and zipped it up. It did not suit her. At all.

"Maybe leave the leather to me, yeah?" I buffed my fingernails on my own, considerably more stylish leather jacket.

Taylor re-racked the jacket and we moved on, drifting from stall to stall looking over various knickknacks, curios, objects d'art, trinkets, etc. All heinously overpriced of course, but it wasn't like we were here to actually buy anything. That would be reserved for much cheaper shops, potentially on the internet.

"How about glasses?" I asked, pointing to a stand of trendy frames. "We'll get you some glam new frames, and some aviators; then we can re-enact the beach volleyball scene out of Top Gun."

She gave me a look that might have been disgust or pity, reached for a pair and switched them for hers.

"No," I said. "You just look like a faggot hipster."

Taylor's face twitched as it usually did when I said words like faggot. Or nigger. Or niggerfaggot. I'd been trying to phase that out of my speech pattern for a while now, but old habits died hard.

"Yes," I said, digging my phone out of my pocket. "Those look better, smile."

She tried to smile but it came out more like a grimace; just like my last five school photos. I snapped a picture and held it out.

"I dunno," she cringed at what she probably thought was a hideous picture.

"Don't make this difficult," I took the glasses off her and took a picture of the brand label for later reference. "Fashion is easy. All you need to do is buy five pairs of skinny jeans, some chucks and start accumulating shirts that fit you. If you want to get fancy you can go for a button down over that, or one of those tunic things."

"But I don't want skinny jeans," she protested as I put the glasses back on the rack.

Insufferable wretch! She would squander those legs beneath baggy trousers?! Would that I were not a womanlet.

"Yeah you do," I said. "Or you will learn."

We bickered back and forth about the qualities of jeans and why she should wear them, debated various purchases and generally talked a lot of bullshit as we made our way towards the end of the markets, heading towards the Boardwalk. It was nice, just hanging out with a friend.

We passed some girls I went to school with, and hadn't ever really spoken to and probably would never given that I graduated in a few months, as we came out the south end of the markets. Playtime was over, now we went to work.

If it was dark out I would have flown us, but as it was on this mild midmorning Sunday we had to walk. While our first lair, the one and only Doomfort, had been up in the docks; the north of Brockton Bay our new one was near the South Ferry Station. This put us nicely in what Nightwire had called the 'PRT Bubble'; the area of low gang activity surrounding the bay due to its proximity to the PRT building and the Protectorate headquarters.

It was a lot further away from our houses than the first base, and if we ever had to get there fast I'd have to fly us, but it was going to be a lot safer. And well away from Coil.

It was also a bit surprising how fast Nightwire had been able to find it, but I expect he knew it was abandoned before we asked about places. It had only been a week since we met and we were already back in business. In fact, we were heading over there today to give him his finished suit of armour.

Taylor could belt one out in five days flat now given all the materials needed, instead of the month it took the first time to get the forge and the carbon fabricator up and running and work out all the kinks involved in first time production.

We had to walk the entire length of the bay and then some before we got to our base, but we made good enough time. It was bigger than The Doomfort, a low slung brick building that used to be an auto-repairs shop, and had a chain fence running around the back separating it from an unpopular parking lot. We walked around the back and I summoned up a ghost.

It felt bizarre, actually, having them squirm out of my skin. Sort of tingly and itchy. Immediately a new awareness sprung into my mind. I could feel Taylor standing next to me, but to my sense it read as 'very close, and to the left'. There were a series of clumps of very far and in fronts that slowly came and went as cars drove by, but other than that we were alone.

The Pussy Wagon, currently disguised as a rusted out husk, sat parked near the door in case we needed to jump straight in and make a clean getaway.

Taylor fished the key out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and led the way inside. Unfortunately she hadn't the time to fix the place up with tinkertech security, but she had managed to hook things up to the tinkertech generator; proven as evidence when she started it up and flicked on the lights.

The boxes of Manhattan Projects bombs were still sitting in the far corner, despite Taylor's promises that she'd hand them over to Armsmaster. At least she'd surrendered her retard grenade, which now sat safely at the back of my closet at home. If she still had it I was sure she'd make a device to block its radiation, stick that in her helmet, wear the thing in her ridiculous bandoleers and go pick a fight with Hookwolf.

"Hey Taylor," I asked, leaning against a pillar and trying to sound casual. "When Nightwire gets here, can you use your power to see how he thinks of me?"

Ah regret, I shouldn't have said that. Should not have said that. I felt myself go bright pink as Taylor gave me a weird look. She was probably reading me with her power now. I often wondered what that must be like.

What kind of hell must she be enduring having to know the truth behind people's masks?

"Er, yeah I guess," she frowned in bewilderment. "If you want me to."

"Thanks."

There was an awkward sort of pause.

"Isn't he like, twenty something, though?" Taylor continued.

"Early twenties," I countered. "Besides, I'm nearly eighteen."

And it wasn't like I had a crush on him or anything, y-you silly b-baka, it was just super likely I eventually would.

"Ok, yeah, alright," she replied, and hastened to put her helmet on. Probably so she didn't have to look me in the eye. I didn't blame her, that was pretty embarrassing.

We went about putting our armour on in silence, not bothering with the whole shebang. It wasn't like we were going out to do anything in them today, so they could just go on over our clothes without bothering with the actual costume part.

I threw my jacket over the ratty office chair that came with the place and zipped up my suit, rolling my shoulders, feeling the armour plates shift about. There had been some concerns early on about the weight of them, but they were amazingly light due to the metal she used; only about ten kilos.

I looked over at Taylor who was already busy typing away, writing up that assistant software she'd promised to let me teach how to talk. The armour looked good on her, really filled out her spooky skellington thin frame. Give her a year or two to get some real mass on, if she ever followed my advice on eating big to get big that is, and she might even be gorgeous enough to finally get over her gargantuan self-image problems.

I took my own helmet off its charger, put it on and plopped heavily onto the disgusting office chair. I leant back, controlling the ghost I had out to float in place so I could use it as a footrest, and clicked on my phone. I synced it with my helmet before scrolled through my albums and hitting play on , my favourite memecore album made using spliced together cuts of Armsmaster's press statements run through a robotic synthesiser and played over a techno dance beat; singing about how he would make everything _Efficient._

* * *

"Well it looks spectacular," Nightwire examined his reflection in the windows of the little office room attached to the main floor area, stretching this way and that, bending over to touch his toes and raising his leg like a ballerina over his head. "Moves better than I expected, too."

"Thanks," said Taylor. "And the mask?"

"If it works like you said, it'll be perfect," he prodded at the face-hugging gas mask that was to replace his old cloth one.

"Cool, cool," he said, giving his reflection another once over. "Hang on a second though, I want to give it a bit more of a test run."

He started moving through what looked like martial art forms, then a series of kicks culminating with some kind of super fucking impressive quintuple multi-directional spinning heel kick.

I scratched at my neck between my helmet and armour, why couldn't I have that power instead of the one where I took over people and made them evil?

He leapt in a backflip and landed flat footed on the ceiling, sticking there like he was Spiderman.

"Taylor," I said, compensating for Nightwire's Vulcan hearing. "Has your tinker power given you any answers about what I asked for earlier?"

She shrugged.

Great. Oh well.

Nightwire walked back over to us, shaking out his arms and legs. From what I could see of his pretty grey eyes he looked quite chuffed.

"Restricts a bit on some jumps, but if it's as bulletproof as you say this is more than enough."

"Don't just take my word for it," Taylor skipped over to, oh great she was getting her gun out again. At least this time the person getting shot wasn't going to get hurt, probably. She finished fishing around in her desk drawer and pulled out the pistol.

"Uh, that's gonna be pretty loud, draw some unwanted attention," Nightwire said, the bit of his forehead poking out above his eye mask creasing. "Also, I'm actually bulletproof, right?"

"Yeah, of course," Taylor lowered the gun and walked over to her tinkertech collection and selected a mug sized black box. "We haven't actually tested shooting each other because we'd probably crack a rib, but the test plates we shot left the monitoring equipment underneath undamaged. You're a brute, this armour was made to protect us. You'll be fine."

"Alright, alright… shoot me."

Taylor held the box up next to her gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Nightwire stumbled despite the lack of gunshot noise.

"Ow," he said, picking the flattened bullet off his chest plate and rubbing at the scuff mark it left. "Now, I've been shot before and god I wish I had this back then."

"Told you," she said smugly, going back to her desk. "You said you wanted it in black, so I went and whipped up some fireproofing paint. I've got some of the gold left over from our gear, if you want that, too."

She tapped the gun against the paint can sitting on it, "I've got work to do, so my lovely lab assistant Ghaster here will have to get the bits you can't reach."

Was she trying to _wingman_ for me? Fucking hell, Tay-Tay, you magnificent son of a bitch.

I grabbed the paint can and brush, and tossed the latter to Nightwire. All I had to do now was not screw this up with my usual social incompetence. Think smooth, Cassie, you're Papa Smooth.

"This the first time you've had a girl paint your arse cheeks black?"


	17. Race War 3-1

"Jesus Christ, I can't believe they crucified him."

I murmured my agreement. I'd known The Empire were scum, but this was beyond the pale.

Early yesterday morning Grue, the leader of the gang formerly known as the Undersiders, had been found strung up on a makeshift crucifix. Speculation was The Empire had discovered he was black after his sleeve ripped during an altercation with one of their capes. They hadn't killed him, thankfully, and he'd been safely retrieved into PRT custody but their actions were not ones we could tolerate.

Which was why we were headed to a heroes meet.

As Nightwire had explained, the Protectorate wanted to foster good relations with the capes in Brockton Bay. And so once a month, or every two months or so, they held a meet up to touch base with the Independent hero, vigilante and rogue cape community to trade information and make sure everything was running along more or less smoothly.

"Yeah," Nightwire agreed, leaning through the gap between the only two seats in the van. "It's been a while since they've pulled something like this. Overtly, at least. Cold comfort that it happened to Grue, and not a civilian."

I leant back in my seat as Cassie made a show about how much she thought The Empire were scum. I could tell she was playing it up to try to impress Nightwire, but it was kind of funny actually. When her initial embarrassing attempts at flirting inevitably failed she had lost much of her nerve and started clamming up like she did whenever my dad tried to talk to her, and once she got over that she'd started following him around like a puppy whenever we saw him. She tried not to, my god did she try, and as far as I could tell Nightwire had no clue about any of it.

In a lot of ways, despite being over two years my senior, she acted a lot younger than me.

I turned to look out of the window, trying not to smile and get back to focusing on my projects. Now that this business with the Empire was starting up I'd decided it was time to increase my firepower and slowly reveal I was a Tinker, I wasn't so cowardly that I could stand by and not do all I could while they ran roughshod all over my town.

I'd been musing over the designs for weeks, months even, slowly putting them together until I was satisfied with the direction they were going. First off was a hand held Maser Cannon, capable of firing a laser-like beam of microwaves; but there were some problems with this. One, it was incredibly lethal; one hit to the torso and it would shear through clothes and skin to boil organs. And two it was going to be heavy, but that would be countered by my second piece, a powered exo-frame. Clunky as it was an exo-frame would let me exceed my current physical capabilities by quite a margin.

And I would need to, not just because of what happened yesterday, but because the situation was far worse than I realised.

Having been given the run down on the drive had thrown my perspective of Brockton Bay out of whack. I'd thought Empire Eighty Eight had at most a third of the city under varying levels of control, turns out it was more like half. With a force of fifteen known capes no one had the strength to match them. New Wave, a family of Independent Heroes, only had eight; with half being underage or still in school. The Protectorate had only seven parahuman members, and four Wards who weren't allowed to see too heavy a combat.

The other gangs and villains couldn't handle them outright, their combined might only maybe equalling them and forget about them ever cooperating, only delay their inevitable encroach.

The only consolation was The Empire knew they had to expand without treading on too many toes or else suffer the full combined wrath of the PRT and the Protectorate, but all that provided was a slow death for Brockton Bay.

Cassie pulled the van over and parked up against the curb. The meeting was being held quite close to the PRT headquarters in a building they owned, where they could create more privacy for their guests. The meeting was also conveniently timed after school and work was over, it was a strange but obvious thought that everyone attending would have rushed home and put on their costumes, and would take them off again the next day and go about their business like normal.

Even villains did that. It was bizarre to think idiots like Uber and Leet had a day job, or that Kaiser had a house that wasn't covered in swastikas.

We exited the van and fell in behind Nightwire as he led the way. As discussed he wasn't wearing the armour and gas mask I'd made him, I didn't want any tinkertech linked back to me where a villain might hear of it just yet. It was a shame, the futuristic cut of the armour looked pretty good painted glossy black, but at least this way he could introduce us without any trouble.

The last slivers of late afternoon sun glinted over the rooftops, reflecting off my helmet as we walked. I hoped this meeting didn't last _too_ long, dad was starting to get annoyed by my being out so late so often, or leaving at odd times without telling him. I didn't know how far I could push that, and short of telling him I was a parahuman which would cause no end of inconveniences I didn't know how to fix it.

It was a minor problem in the scheme of things, I'd break curfew before I stopped fighting Nazi's.

I counted the number of people gathered in the building ahead of us on my radar, seventeen people were gathered loosely inside. I was sure one must be Armsmaster, which was a stroke of luck, as one blip was pinging slightly as tinkertech.

The building didn't look like much from the outside, plain concrete painted white, and if it wasn't for the PRT van and Armsmaster's massive motorcycle parked out the front I would never have guessed who was inside.

We walked through the door and into a function room I recognised from a few PRT press statements, where the heroes were standing in a loose semicircle.

Armsmaster, Velocity and Triumph made up the Protectorate's showing while Clockblocker, Gallant, Aegis and Browbeat represented the Wards. Browbeat was the newest addition to the ENE Wards team, having only joined in the last few weeks, and was just as grotesquely muscular as in his first PR event.

Brandish, Lady Photon, Manpower, Glory Girl and Panacea were the New Wave contingent, all of them unmasked in stark contrast to everyone else in the room.

There were some in the independent and rogue category I didn't recognise. Velveteen was here, as was Parian; a rogue who sometimes did events for department store openings and such, animating huge stuffed animals. But the short boy with black hair standing near Manpower was a complete unknown, and it was only due to my new software cataloguing all possible parahumans in the city that I could make a good guess that the two remaining capes were Ghoul and Dust.

"Big turnout," said Nightwire, sounding genuinely surprised. "Usually it's only a Hero, a Ward, one of New Wave and me. Parian turns up often enough, but I haven't seen Dust here in months."

"Nightwire," Armsmaster raised a hand in greeting, stepping forward as we closed in. "Psychonaut, Ghaster, I'm glad you could make it."

We shook hands in turn and he bid us entry to the semicircle.

It was my first time seeing so many heroes so close, and honesty it was a bit overwhelming to think I was joining their vaunted ranks. This, if nothing else, finally hammered it home that I'd done what I'd set out to do: be a hero.

Now I just had to be a good one.

Velocity stepped in with a kind smile and we shook hands, as did Tripumph and then everyone else in turn. The short boy was apparently called Edge, and wanted to join New Wave.

"Now that we're all acquainted," Armsmaster said genially, "I'll reiterate what we were just discussing. The villain Tattletale broke out of prison yesterday and escaped using the clamour of what happened to Grue as cover."

"Aw!" I exclaimed.

"It happens," he continued, giving me a commiserating shrug. "Likely she's returned to Coil's employ, if your intel was right. Unfortunately she refused to answer any questions on the matter so we don't have anything more to go on."

That was a shame, I hoped she was alright. I'd told Assault that she was only working for Coil under duress, it was sad to hear that hadn't helped.

"Right," Armsmaster turned back to face the majority of the group. "Does anyone have any information they'd like to share before we get onto the main topic?"

"The Merchants were riled up last night," said Manpower in his deep baritone. "They can tell what's coming. If there was ever one thing they were good at it's crawling into the gaps after things go down."

There was a general murmur of dissent, and for a moment I thought Cassie was going to nudge me as she shifted her stance; as though I'd forgotten that I was going to hand my bombs in or something. Jeez.

"So we're all well aware of the Empire's recent actions, the crucifixion of Grue. He's not in critical condition and is expected to make a full recovery, however, we need to discuss how we're going to react. The Protectorate will be increasing its presence in areas held by them, and we'll be cooperating with the BBPD and PRT to increase patrols through more problem areas in the hopes we can suppress action or bait them into making a bad move. We of course can't order our independent heroes to take action, but it would be a massive help if any of you were willing to temporarily and publically join us; especially in the problem areas and then to reassure the public, I would ask you join in some of the safer, more visible patrols we will be allocating the Wards. Shortly, I will also be fielding a public press conference all of you are invited to attend if you so wish."

"The Empire must pay," Edge said, twirling his fingers around a blade of burning blue energy that had suddenly appeared in his hand. "And they must pay in blood. That intoxicating aroma," he muttered under his breath as he licked the knife, the same blue light filtering out his mouth and half lidded eyes. "Ahh, it's enough to make a man sick."

Brandish's jaw clenched, an embarrassed grimace of a smile, and she put a hand on Edge's shoulder and tried to subtly pull him back out of the semicircle.

Beside me Cassie jolted. I saw her hand dip into her pocket and a second later a high pitched, girlish squeal stabbed into my ears through the speakers. She quivered slightly every few seconds as Armsmaster and Manpower negotiated how much support New Wave was to give, and I realised she was laughing.

"Edge!" she crowed. "Muh Edge, Edge and Edgy! My little Edge can't be this Edgy! I'm deffs gonna try talk him into scalping Nazi's."

She continued to cackle shrilly for a few more seconds before suddenly cutting off.

"Uh….. Nightwire, pretend you didn't hear that. Please?"

I glanced over at Nightwire, I hadn't the time to upgrade the soundproofing in our helmets. He could have been anything from unsettled to enthused for all I could tell. It suddenly struck me that that was why the Protectorate heroes almost never wore masks that concealed their mouths despite that being hazardously unsafe compared to what I wore. It was so people could tell what they were thinking.

I noticed a blip on my map outside drawing closer. It was a weird shape, and big. Too big for a person, not big enough for a vehicle.

I had a weird mental image of Kaiser and Hookwolf peddling in on one of those two person bicycles to tell us off for plotting against them, but quickly dismissed it.

Nightwire suddenly made a disgusted noise and glanced over his shoulder at the door.

"What is it," Lady Photon asked. "What do you hear?"

"Meatwagon."

And after a few more moments I could hear it too. A rasping, wet slapping sound. Something heavy and fleshy dragging itself across the ground. I knew what it was, my software had turned up a picture online. He was a bit of a local oddity, ostensibly a vigilante though I'd never heard of him ever apprehending any criminals.

I turned to watch him enter the room.

Meatwagon, the Lord of Bones on his throne of meat.

He sat there, elaborately carved, concealing bone armour plates shifting, on a huge throne as it walked toward us on clawed feet. Rumour was it was made of his murder victims, but it just looked like steak. Behind him, attached to the throne by chains of bone, were two humanoid slabs dragging their feet and looking demurely at the floor.

At this bizarre sight I reflexively activated my relationship checker, but he seemed amiable towards us all.

"I see that I am late," he said softly, moving into an empty gap in the semicircle near Nightwire who cringed and shuffled closer to me.

"We were just discussing the actions we were going to take against The Empire, and sharing anything that might help us against them," Armsmaster stepped in and offered his hand.

Meatwagon shook it, bone scraping dryly against steel. "I will help."

Soon the semicircle arrangement shuffled after everyone had agreed on how much they were going to pitch in, the adults breaking off to make a circle and leaving us teenagers to stand around and do whatever it was teenagers did.

"So who's this guy?" Cassie gestured at Edge. "He came with you guys, right?"

"Edge… wants to join New Wave," Glory Girl said, making a slightly pained face.

"Everyone should be held to a higher standard," Edge said pompously, while simultaneously trying to make his voice sound deeper.

"Admirable," Cassie replied blandly.

"Even you," he continued, pointing at her. "Too proud to show your true face, little girl?"

Cassie tilted her head down to look him properly in the eye, "you're still wearing a mask."

Edge visibly floundered for a moment. "Everyone unmasks for the last time eventually, and you will be one of them, sooner or later."

"I like the cut of your jib, kid, I'll be glad to have you watching our back in the fight against The Empire." Cassie nodded. "Say, Edge, have you ever seen the film Inglorious Basterds?"

A wave of awe swept over me and I, everyone, turned to look at Glory Girl, so much more resplendent and beautiful than before.

"That's enough of that I think," she gave Cassie a sort of half glare, like she was a trouble making child.

"Ok," Cassie said in a quavering voice.

Glory Girl huffed, "so you two are straight up independents like us, right? That's pretty cool."

"You're cool," I said.

Shit.

Glory Girl suddenly looked embarrassed and the feeling of awe faded. So that was her aura, huh? I'd heard about it before, but experiencing it was a different thing entirely.

"Do you mind never, ever, _ever_ doing that again?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest tensely.

"Sorry," she said. "It's so easy I keep forgetting it happens."

I hmmm'ed and a short silence followed.

"Have you been up to anything lately?" Gallant asked, putting a hand on Glory Girl's shoulder. "Assault told us you were the ones who provided the information that led to Tattletale and Regents arrest, but that was a while ago."

How very gallant. I bet he already knew.

"We were _this_ close to taking in this Tinker, Manhattan Project, you heard about the Cornell Bomber right?" said Cassie. "Her. Had her all laid out for the PRT and everything, but she had some tricks up her sleeve, not sure _which_ sleeve _,_ and got away after freezing us in ice."

"Shame," Clockblocker chimed in. "Gotta hand it to her for the name though, couldn't have picked a better one myself, considering."

"Fucking _bomb_ choice," said Cassie at the same time Aegis Elbowed Clockblocker in the ribs.

"What?" Clockblocker protested indignantly. "She gets it, it's funny."

"It's insensitive."

Clockblocker shrugged, and behind the holographic ticking clocks all over his full face mask it felt like he was rolling his eyes.

I wondered why people made jokes like that, they weren't even funny. I eagerly awaited the day where Cassie's first instinct wasn't to manipulate me and our entire cape image all for the sake of making a lewd joke about our van.

"What do the Wards get up to on that front?" I asked. "I haven't heard much about what you guys actually do."

"Depends," Aegis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We never used to see much action, comparatively at least, but lately we get sent out more often. It's not like there's a shortage of crimes to stop around here. I'd say we get into a cape fight or make an arrest or two every, what, month?"

"Yeah," said Gallant, drawing out the word. "Sounds about right. You should hear some of Armsmaster's stories though. Back when we were based on The Rig it was like he managed to track down and foil half the crimes the Empire capes tried."

I glanced over to where the adults were standing. Note to self: don't forget to talk to Armsmaster about the bombs.

"Too bad Shadow Stalker transferred away, she was always gung ho about getting into fights," Clockblocker said, crossing his arms. "Usually won the arrests per month comp too."

I clenched my jaw and Gallant glanced at me. Oh, right, he had that empathic sense didn't he? Well done me, now he knows. Amazing, all he needed to do now was mention I hated Shadow Stalker to Armsmaster or Director Piggot. I doubted it would be hard to figure out I was Taylor Hebert. Maybe I'd get lucky and they'd have forgotten about my tantrum.

I maintained my silence while the others talked, speaking only when addressed, trying not to be worried lest Gallant get too suspicious. Luckily the meeting was soon over and I hastened over to Armsmaster before he could leave, cornering him while he was apart from the main group.

"Something the matter?" he smiled as I approached.

"Yes," I said. "I have recently legally acquired what appear to be tinkertech bombs, and instead of attempting to disarm them myself I decided to hand them over to you."

For a moment he looked baffled, "did you legally acquire this potential tinkertech around the third of this month?"

I nodded.

"I see," his mouth creased into a frown. "This is serious business, tinkertech can be very unstable."

"They've been kept well away from the public."

"Good, but what of the creator? Can they access them remotely?"

"I managed to get a hold of the detonation signal and jam it," I said with a hint of pride.

He stroked his neat beard, "I would be glad to accept this legally acquired tinkertech-"

"On one condition," I interrupted him. "I get to be there when you take them apart."

Armsmaster stopped stroking his beard and stood there for a few seconds, what little I could see of his face inscrutable. Then his smile came back, brighter than ever.

"You'll make a good hero yet, Psychonaut," he nodded appreciatively. "In fact, I've just had a good idea. I have your number, I'll call you during the week and we can arrange for you to come over to The Rig and drop them off."

"Ok!" I said brightly. "Thanks!"

"I'll talk to you later," he gave me another winning grin.

I said goodbye and practically bounced over to Cassie who had seemingly ditched the Wards the second Nightwire stopped talking to anyone. On a whim I looked over my shoulder at Armsmaster and tuned my checker between us to see if he though I really had done good, and-

 _Thinks Psychonaut is useful_

What on earth did he mean by that?


	18. Race War 3-2

Cassie handed me a mug of tea and settled down next to me, smoothing her skirt.

"Why must you have such shit taste, Tay Tay?" she asked plaintively, sipping her tea.

I had long since given up objecting to being called Tay Tay, she never listened.

"I just don't think it's that good."

"But look at all the tinker made special effects! Surely that gives you some inspiration. And all the sci-fi tech, this is an invaluable resource."

I stirred my tea gently with the bag. "I guess? If I ever invent time travel or figure out folded space I'll tell you how it goes."

She dipped a finger in her cup and flicked tea at me in response. "Get hype," she said. "It's all happening now, we make our break into the big leagues. Get that cash, get them bitches, namsayin homeslice?"

She was doing it on purpose, I could tell. Years of being a self-confessed annoying dipshit honed into a precision laser of aggravation.

"Nothing is going to happen on literally the first patrol into Empire territory," I flicked some tea back at her. "Half the Protectorate's gonna be out there tonight, with all the PRT and BBPD waiting in the wings. It's the ones after we have to watch out for, after they've had time to plan."

Cassie pouted.

"Weird to see you so into it," I continued. "I'd have thought you'd want to play it safe."

Cassie shifted uncomfortably, "Don't misunderstand, if the situation was different I'd talk us out of going but this was proposed by Armsmaster which means we'll have the backup we need to do this safely. You remember what he said at the press statement right? We just gotta stay away from their psycho capes, punch in our weight class, and worse comes to worst we have Panacea to patch us up. I'm not changing my original mission statement of sitting around and jerking ourselves off at how cool we are, but there's no way I could do that if I didn't help now. I'd get heroectile dysfunction."

I chewed my lip thoughtfully as the characters in the television show ran from the incompetent alien menace.

"Do you think we should try to build a group, then? I know Nightwire prefers to go solo, but I reckon I can talk him into a proper team up. And if we had more people it wouldn't matter so much if someone wanted to nab me for my tech."

"Get that from the Wards too," Cassie stared into her tea. "But maybe, yeah. Who though? Not many solo hero capes around, even less who'd join us. You could arm a bunch of normals, go for the Coil approach."

I grunted in dissent.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Ruins the whole secret club feel, doesn't it."

"Well, we can scope out who turns up tonight. If anyone turns up."

"Gotta keep those standards high."

"We'll figure it out," I said with some finality, trailing off as the show finally started to get interesting.

Halfway through the next episode both our phones buzzed simultaneously, a text message from the Protectorate. Armsmaster was holding the patrol meeting early. Very early, it was only twelve in the afternoon.

Cassie and I shared a meaningful look. There wasn't a need to say anything at this point, we both got up at once and left the room.

"Muuuuuuuum!" Cassie yelled as she led the way down the stairs to the ground floor.

"What?!" Mrs. Carter shouted back from somewhere in the house.

"We're going out, can I have some money for lunch and shit?!"

We found her in the kitchen reading a book, a glass of wine firmly in hand.

"Sure," she spared us a glance. "Me purse's on the bench over there, I think."

"Thanks," Cassie said, quickly locating the purse and rifling around until she pulled out a fifty and flourished it at me. "Lets-a go."

It kind of irked me that the Carters were so well off that Cassie could just get money whenever she asked. Their house was so much nicer than mine, all modern marble instead of cracked linoleum. And she had her own computer and both of whatever gaming systems were popular; she didn't even have to share with her younger brother either because he got them too. But that was the kind of girl who got to go to Immaculata, I supposed.

"See you when we get back," I said to her mother, who looked up from her book again to return my smile.

I followed Cassie out the front door and fell into step beside her as she started making noises under her breath to the tune of some song I've never heard. She was certainly excited then, practically vibrating in a way that looked like she might start dancing if we were somewhere nobody could see her doing it.

The van was parked only two blocks away in preparation for today, with all our gear inside. We hurriedly got in and I immediately squirmed into the back to put on my armour. With that done I leveraged myself into the driver's seat as Cassie crawled into the back, it was my turn to drive today and I was eager to test my new pathing algorithm.

It wasn't super complex or anything, but I'd had some ideas about AR that would hopefully turn out to be really helpful.

I ran the program and a golden glowing line sprang up on my HUD, tracing down the road and around the corner. I could even see it through the buildings stretching out into the distance as it wound its way via the shortest possible route to our destination; I hadn't expected that. Made sense though, the program didn't understand obstructions.

I started the van and pulled smoothly out onto the road. Cassie had been teaching me how to drive, which combined with the fact that I'd built this vehicle myself made driving a bit easier than I expected. I tapped my gloved fingers on the wheel as I accelerated down the street following over the golden line.

"What happened, do you think?" I asked, indicating right and rounding the corner.

"Manhattan Project, probably. She failed at her gang thing and is a Nazi now. And now we have to deal with her super bombs."

"Shit, that would be bad," I said. "Don't they have that albino guy who already keeps blowing himself up and can't die?"

"Alabaster, yeah."

I'd known this would be dangerous going in but it hadn't really sunk in before now. In our fight with Uber and Leet we were never really in any danger, and then with Manhattan I hadn't had time to be afraid. I licked my dry lips, the anticipation was killing me.

A short while later I pulled up as close to the PRT building as possible after going back over the street twice looking for a god damn parking space and killed the engine. We hustled through the pedestrians and in past the front doors and my radar immediately started fritzing, no doubt due to whatever anti spy tech they had stashed in the walls. It wasn't long before we got through security and were shown into what was probably the biggest conference room in the place.

Dauntless sat alone at the head of the table that took up most of the space clad in his fearsome centurion armour, tapping away at a laptop. He stood up as we walked inside, gesturing for us to join him.

"That was quick," he said, sounding mildly impressed. "Most everyone should be here within the hour, so there's not much to do in the meantime. Free tea and coffee though, so it ain't all bad news."

He gave us a goofy sort of grin and a handshake that was almost a sideways high five.

"S'cool man," Cassie gave an airy shrug and nudged me out of the way so she could sit closest to him. "Except we had to skip lunch due to our fervent dedication to punctuality, we can order in right?"

"Sure can," Dauntless lounged in his chair in a way that was completely out of character compared to his formal posture in interviews. "And we'll pay for it, too."

"Nice," Cassie settled down in her chair. "What do you feel like, T-"

She made a strangled coughing sound, a jolt of fear shot up my spine.

" _Psychonaut_?"

The little jolt that ran up my spine settled, that was close. It was surprising that this was the only time one of us had ever come close to slipping up and accidentally calling each other by our real names. I glanced at Dauntless who was looking pointedly at the ceiling off to the left, pretending he hadn't noticed.

"Chinese, I feel like having some honey chicken."

"Fair enough," Cassie tilted her head up to scratch under the rim of her helmet in a move that looked like it was to disguise her checking to see Dauntless's reaction. "We'll, uh, get that in a bit."

Dauntless hmm'ed, "cool, cool. You guys need the shops number?"

Cassie got her phone out and jiggled it, "covered."

Dauntless clicked his tongue with a smile, and shot us the double finger guns.

Lame.

"So why were we called in early?" I asked.

"Bad news," he frowned. "Empire had something up their sleeve. I can tell ya, but if you wanna wait oh, say five or ten, Armsmaster's en-route from The Rig. He's got dossiers for everyone, save you having to hear it twice."

"Alright," I said. "We'll wait."

There was a lull in the conversation in which Dauntless went back to typing out his reports, or whatever it was he'd been doing, and Cassie started browsing PHO on her phone.

I crossed my arms, picking at a gap in my armour through the fabric. God damn Empire. And the worst of it was that even if we somehow managed to get all of their capes behind bars the gang wouldn't be finished. Some unpowered thug would step up to fill the power vacuum and their shitty ideology would continue to infect the city unhindered.

I tapped my fingers against my palm. I had the power in my hands to maybe change that… would it be permissible if I tried to re-write people to be less criminal?

I brooded over this until the door was thrown open and Armsmaster, Miss Militia and Battery walked in.

"Dauntless," he gave the man a brisk nod before turning to us. "And it's good to see you two here as well, punctuality is a good trait for a hero."

He sounded tired, not quite exhausted but there was a definite edge to him not even the visor and armour could smooth out.

He tossed us two manila folders from the stack he had trapped under his arm, "have you been given the run down?"

I shook my head, "we decided to wait."

He grunted, placing a shiny chrome briefcase on the table and popping it open. "It's all in the folder anyway, but the Empire was baiting us with Grue. Wanted us to make a move so they could stand against it," he gave a frustrated sigh, pressing something inside the briefcase to make it fold up into itself and become a laptop. "They have new capes, two of them."

He turned to look at me directly.

"And what's worse is the Empire finally has its Tinker."


	19. Race War 3-3

I forked up another delicious piece of honey chicken and lifted my helmet up enough to pop it into my mouth.

 _Fuck the Empire_ I thought, rifling through the already dog eared dossier containing all the relevant information we would need in the upcoming confrontations. Including their roster.

 _Page 1 of 12_

 _Kaiser_

 _Fenja_

 _Menja_

 _Purity_

 _Hookwolf_

 _Heisenburg:_ _tinker_

 _Krieg_

 _Cricket_

 _Geist:_ _grab bag: intangibility, glue himself/things into something no harm done, vibrosense, spacial awareness_

 _Viel:_ _clones and illusory clones_

 _Messer:_ _fierce aura, protection, strength and pressure._

 _Crusader_

 _Viktor_

 _Othala_

 _Alabaster_

 _Komet:_ _pyrokinetic combat, martial arts awareness_

 _Rumpelstiltskin: rubber organs, unbreakable bones, nemesis form_

We'd just spent the last couple of hours discussing tactics as more heroes trickled in, how we could defeat and arrest or otherwise repel the Empire long enough for the situation to die down. I didn't understand why Armsmaster had used those words, 'until it dies down,' when we should be out there as much as we were able; taking down those bastards. But he was the one with over a decade of parahuman law enforcement experience, not me, so there was probably something I was missing.

"Fucking draconian mods," Cassie muttered from beside me staring intently at her phone, fork absently moving from her empty food container to her mouth and back.

I glanced down at her screen. Banned from PHO again for shitposting it seemed. At least she used her old account for that and not her Team Satisfaction one.

I murmured in obligatory assent, forking my last piece of chicken into my mouth and strapping my helmet back on. I stood up and made my way back over to the main table, plonking myself down next to Nightwire who seemed to be suffering from his decision to eat an entire Extra Large pizza topped with four kinds of cheeses, six different meats and 'as many prawns as were legally allowed'.

"Suck it up," Velocity heckled from across the table. "Brute rating, c'mon!"

"C'mon," Nightwire echoed, lightly headbutting the table where he was leaning. "Big boys table."

"Biggest boys only," snorted Dauntless. "Sure you're big enough?"

Nightwire groaned as he sat up. "Eat big to get big," he thumped himself vigorously in the guts, each hit clanking loudly.

I smiled, he'd worn his new armour in and it was immediately showered with praise and compliments. Then _I_ was showered with praise and compliments when they found out I made it.

So that was out of the bag now, Psychonaut was a known Tinker. But I didn't mind, it hadn't been my idea to hide it in the first place. And it had prompted Armsmaster to set a date for me to come to the rig, which just so happened to be tomorrow.

Nazi's aside, this would be a good week.

Now if only I could join the big boys on patrol, but apparently Armsmaster couldn't send capes he knew were underage out into danger in good conscience, so Cassie and I were to go with the Wards tonight. Of course, _we_ didn't _have_ to follow his orders, but we were going to anyway. We could probably swing it so we got to get into the thick of it when things really started going down anyway.

"Sure you want that?" I jibed. "You're only getting one of those."

"My gains though," Nightwire said plaintively.

"Shit," my internal speakers crackled to life. "Make a joke about cardio and Auschwitz for me."

I glanced over at Cassie who was throwing her lunch container into the bin; I didn't get it.

"Fuck," she continued. "He can bloody hear me anyway. Upgrade our god damn soundproofing already."

The punchline must have been funny because Nightwire exhaled sharply through his nose.

"What?" Dauntless flicked a crumb of something at Nightwire.

"Ah, just super hearing picked up something good."

"I don't get it." I said, looking between him and Cassie.

Nightwire ran a hand through his hair, "cardio kills gains."

It clicked. "That's not funny."

"That's because you're not funny," Cassie leant in between me and Nightwire, hands braced on the backs of our chairs.

"No idea what you're talkin' about," Velocity sighed.

"Topical Nazi jokes," replied Cassie even though he couldn't hear her. "Anne Frankly I-"

I elbowed her hard in the ribs, cutting off her stupidity. I liked to think she privately thanked me later on whenever I stopped her from making a fool of herself by running her mouth. I shuddered to think of what she used to be like before she, in her words, 'grew up.'

The door swung open and Armsmaster clomped in, moving like a powerful panther in his exquisite power armour. "Time to get back on track-"

"Shut it down!" Cassie stage whispered, still unheard by everyone but Nightwire and myself.

"Dust just confirmed he'll be here soon," Armsmaster said. "So we will have to go over some of what we've been talking about over the past hours so we're all on the same page and work him into the stratagem."

It was still a little annoying that none of his stratagems would put me on the front lines where I _knew_ I could do some real good, but whatever. But at least I got to be here at this meeting, the poor wards weren't even invited, something about regulations preventing them from being involved in all out gang warfare unless there was absolutely no other choice. Thank fuck I hadn't joined up, what kind of hell they must have been enduring in not getting to step up to the plate if they wanted.

Yep, that one was a good decision.

As Miss Militia came back with her coffee everyone settled back down into their chairs again, ready to face the coming challenge of Kicking the shit out of Nazi's 2: Brockton Bay boogaloo.


End file.
